On An Island
by October Sky
Summary: Thrown together alone on a deserted island, Jack Shephard and Kate Austen must learn to overcome their fears to survive, but in doing so, they're introduced to a chance of redemption and relationship both thought they could only dream about.
1. Where We Start

**Title:** On An Island

**Rating:** PG-13

**Paring:** Jack/Kate

**Summary:** Thrown together alone on a deserted island following a horrific plane crash, Jack Sheppard and Kate Austin must learn to overcome their fears to survive, but in doing so, they're introduced to a world of redemption they never knew was available..and a chance for relationship that both thought they could only dream about.

**Spoilers:** This is AU season one, so if you haven't seen all of season one there may be some. Ask if you fall into this category.

**Warnings:** None. Even though it's only Jack and Kate on the island, I'm still sticking to a specific Jate timeline.

**Disclaimer:** _Lost_ belongs to J.J. Abrams and Co. from ABC. On An Island is a wonderful album by David Gilmore.

_Time passes slowly our hearts entwined_

_All of the dark times left behind_

-"Where We Start" from _On An Island_ by David Gilmore

**Prologue: ** Where We Start

Pain. Excruciating pain. Darkness began fading, welcoming him to a blinding light, though when he opened his eyes, all Jack Sheppard could see were trees. And bamboo. A jungle. With a gasp Jack twitched, trying to take in the sudden new atmosphere with the new pain. Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was boarding a plane, telling a woman hitting turbulence meant nothing crucial, that it'll all be over..and now it was.

Nearby a dog barked. Jack's head turned to the side, fast as he forgot his pain. Breathing hard, he watched in painful agony as a golden retriever wagged its tell before running away, just missing Jack's head on the ground. He let himself have a moment as he watched the dog disappear into the jungle before turning back to his hellish reality. Whatever his injury was, it revolved heavily around what felt like a back wound, and Jack knew no matter how much pain he was feeling in his legs, laying on the jungle floor wouldn't mix in well with his blood.

Reaching out, Jack made a grab for a nearby tree. His legs felt like stiff crutches as he forced himself from the ground, grunting as he went. Body screaming in horror of the painful trauma, Jack gritted his teeth in attempts to ignore the fire rushing through his skin. His back shot out at the sudden upright position, and Jack grabbed with with a silenced scream. The pain told him at once that he didn't want to stand still, and using every once of strength he could to begin running, tearing through unfamiliar territory, charging past trees of bamboo- and a child's single white tennis shoe hanging on a tree.

Panting, Jack reached finally reached a beach. Waves crashed calmly to a sandy shore, the sky above a brilliant color of blue. As if nothing in the world were wrong. For a long, fearful, moment, Jack worried that he was alone. Confusion was taking over, and Jack's pounding mind was finding it hard to piece things together. But sudden passing smoke coming from his left told him where he needed to go, and Jack dashed in that direction, despite his protesting back. Before his mind was ready, Jack discovered what happened.

As horrific as the site in front of him was, the massive plane thrown on its side, parts scattered about the beach, was what stuck out the most. Then Jack really began to take in the site. Bodies were sprayed over the beach like some sick human fettucini. Blood stained the once white, sandy, beach. Jack let out an incredulous sigh. He hurt all over, and his eyes were watering at the smoke fumes. And the bodies..

Jack felt like he was going to be sick. Swallowing hard, Jack forced himself to make a quick sweep glance for survivors. _God let there be survivors,_ Jack prayed desperatly. And there one was.

Walking in a daze through the pool of bodies was a young woman, certainly no younger than thirty, at the most. Brown curls hung around her face, highlighted with smoke and what could've been blood. Her movement was swift, graceful. Like an angel. Jack nearly grinned at her. He could've sworn there was some glow that illuminated her pathway, but maybe that was just from the side effects of his injuries. As she continued to walk, circling sadly around the bodies, Jack concluded that there was only one worried to descibe the woman: traumatized.

"Excuse me!" Jack called after her, his voice echoing off the thick hair. The heat from flames that danced randomly amongst the beach landed in uncomfortable beads of sweat on his skin. He watched her helplessly, with so much sympathy that he was sure he'd explode. The woman looked absolutely lost. "Excuse me!"

At the louder tone, the woman looked up. She looked startled, and the first thing she did was grab her wrist. Jack's eyebrows furrowed, but he decided not to ask, though he made a note to do so later. Assuming there was a later.

"Were you on this plane?" Jack asked her, approaching her carefully.

As he stepped forward, the woman stepped back, but nonetheless, she shook her head yes. Jack's breath suddenly became caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to continue speaking.

"Are you okay?" Jack said, concerned for the woman's dazed appearance. He pointed to her arm. Maybe, he decided, he shouldn't be depending on a later. After all, the morning, 'later' was after his father's funeral.. "Your wrist-"

"They're all dead."

It was a whisper of information Jack always feared the most. He couldn't even bring himself to look around for confirmation. The woman's lower lip began quivering. Her voice had sounded harsh as she immediately silenced herself. If that was from the smoke fumes, Jack knew that may not be good. But that was possibly the smallest of injuries- physically and emotionally- that this woman had indulged.

"What?" Jack forced himself to say, studdering a little.

This was all too surreal to believe. He really felt like he was a in a dream. Any moment now, Jack was sure that one of the flight attendants would wake him up. Or maybe, hopefully, he'd wake up to an alarm telling him to go to work. His father would be there as well, alive..

But at the same time Jack didn't want to be woken up. There was something about this woman, something that told Jack he should stay and watch over her. Something that told Jack she wouldn't be going away any time soon. Something that told Jack that she wouldn't hurt him, like so many had before.

And here he was, standing here and thinking all this about a woman he'd only known for a few seconds. Secretly he couldn't recall seeing her on the plane, but then again, it had been a big plane. Quite a good one too, fairly new. And now..now it was gone. And so were its people.

That's when Jack began to force himself forward again, determined that she was wrong. He dropped to the ground, falling into a random mass of bodies. Bones stuck out in numerous unnatural positions, blood coating any unripped clothing. Once again Jack felt like he was going to be sick, but once again he pushed that offer aside, feeling around necks for pulses. He found none. Letting out a cry of frustration, Jack threw himself to another bank of bodies. As he went around, feeling for pulses and checking injuries of the dead, the woman watched nearby, mesmerized by the stranger's determination.

Finally, Jack found what he was looking for. Singled out from the other bodies, a single man's form lay in the sand, a brutal cut bleeding from his head. But the worst injury was a shrapnel that stuck out from his side, blood already clotting around the wound. The most important thing, however, was that the man was breathing, unlike those around him. Jack grimaced, trying to decipher what he needed to do.

"Can you find me some water?" Jack asked the woman.

She tore her eyes suddenly from the man on the ground.

"You're going to try and save him?" She said in awe, staring at Jack with incredulous amazement, though with a hidden trace of hope.

"I'm a doctor," Jack informed, "a surgeon..I'm used to this kind of thing, but I need some help." He made sure he met her eyes. "Please?"

For a long moment she stared at him, as if trying to decide if he was trustworthy. With his pleading eyes, Jack desperatly tried to convince her that he was honest. He could save him. He had to. No longer would he let a death happen in his hands, and more death seemed the last thing this island needed right now anyway. Suddenly, his own needs and fears seemed unimportant. All that mattered now was saving this man and helping this woman.

"Okay," the woman whispered. She pushed some of her hair back behind her ear. Even covered in smoke and blood, Jack noted that the woman had a natural beauty about her, especially in her face. He also detected some kind of natural kindness as well, and suddenly Jack was grateful it was this woman he stumbled upon. Confidence was a tricky thing for Jack, and he was relieved to have someone there with him. Once again the sensational feeling of hope came through him, as if he knew it was a good thing to be with her. And yet they'd only knew each other for less than a few minutes. So when she finally asked: "What do you need?"

The grateful relief that came over him at her words didn't seem too terrifying.

**Author's Note:** To any of my "In the End" readers, don't worry, that story will be finished. The next chapter's in the works right now.


	2. Conversationalist

On An Island

Chapter Two

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews! Just a quick note: I won't be doing every scene from the show, because then nothing will be fresh. However, you'll see a lot of simularities. Mostly I'll be writing scenes you didn't see, and I'll be offering a new view on some of those scenes, especially since it's just the two of them.

**Chapter Two:** Conversationalist

"Is he going to be okay?"

Jack looked up from his spot in the sand, surprised at the woman's concerned tone.

"Do you know him?" Jack asked her sympathetically.

"He was sitting next to me."

Looking down, a long moment of sadness passed between them. Slowly it began sinking in..they were the only survivors. Cindy the flight attendant, the woman with the husband in the bathroom..they were all gone. So why him? Why her? And why was this man left with an injury, a tough one, Jack had to admit.

"I'll do my best," Jack said, nonetheless, "I promise." He looked back up at the woman, meeting her eyes. "I'll save him."

With that he turned back to his patient, though this time he found it much harder to go back to work. If he failed, if he couldn't save him, what would that mean to her? Who knew how long they'd be together, and Jack certainly didn't want to be alone. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Jack tried to free himself of his thoughts so he could go back to work. It felt surreal to think that only an hour ago he was on a plane home. Just forty-five minutes ago he'd found this woman, and he went immediately to the task of saving this man. Things seemed to happen so fast that he supposed his mind pushed forward to the one thing it was most familiar with: saving people. The next few minutes were spent silently, Jack working while the woman watched him, hand brought to her mouth in sickening worry.

"Your back," she said suddenly, breaking Jack from his thoughts of medical procedures.

"It's fine," Jack lied, gritting his teeth in pain at the mention of the wound.

Truthfully his back was stinging in pain, and he could feel the dried blood caked in a pool of itchy, meshed skin. It hurt for him to bend down, so Jack stayed in a squat, trying to avoid any movement of his back.

"You're bleed-"

"I'm fine!" Jack looked up at her, trying to hide his frustration. "Do you want me to save him or not?

The woman looked taken aback, her hand still brought to her chin like someone in deep thought. She opened her mouth to argue, but quickly closed it.

"You can't help him if you're passed out in the sand," she whispered quietly, her voice swaying in perfectly with the sea-breeze.

Her concern sent a chill up his back, reminding Jack of the blinding pain.

"Fine," Jack said, more forcefully than he meant, throwing cloth he'd been using to stop the man's bleeding down.

His bad mood came off more violently than his afterthoughts, which reigned in guilt. She was only trying to help him, Jack reminded himself, you should be grateful for that. Stepping away from the unconscious man on the ground, Jack slowly picked off his jacket, wincing with a hiss as the fabric ran over his wound.

"Nice suit," the woman complimented.

"Thanks."

"You weren't about to get married, were you?" The woman joked, though with a trace of sympathy, as though she realized that what she said may be true.

"Not exactly," Jack said with a forced laugh at the irony of how very opposite the real reason from the suite was to the joke.

At last he was able to let his jacket fall to the sand, and the burning sun didn't help his pain as he began to peel off his once-white shirt. Now a large spot of it was covered in blood, he observed, cut carelessly from his tumble. Jack didn't remember falling or crashing, but he found it frightening to think about when he considered the plane itself was found on the beach. Not a single peace of wreckage. Jack shivered at the thought.

A sewing kit, intended for the man with the shrapnel, was already at the woman's side as she took her place behind Jack. Running her finger gently over the wound, she began to feel grateful for her minor injuries. She swallowed, nervous. As she brought her finger back it revealed a coat of blood.

"What do I do?" She asked, voice shaky with nerves.

"I'll walk you through it," Jack promised reassuringly, "don't worry, you'll do fine."

"You sound sure about that," she commented.

"I am."

Jack managed a weak smile, one the woman behind him mirrored from where her face was hidden by curls.

(space)

Two hours and counting. Now Jack was sitting with the other survivor, holding a half-empty bottle of Oceanic water in his hands. The woman was sitting next to him, and though the crash was already two hours past, she was currently still shaken. Jack was almost grateful for having blacked out throughout the decent.

"How do you think we crashed?" She asked after a long pause of silence.

The man with the shrapnel was still asleep. It'd be too risky to take it out now, Jack reckoned. Maybe rescue would be here soon. It wasn't as if Jack didn't think he could take care of the man- after all, he was a surgeon by profession- but even Jack had to admit he had little chance of stopping the bleeding with no special tools or machines.

His thoughts of the shrapnel coming to a close, memories of the crash came rolling back in.

_It'll all be over._

He shuddered as he remembered the vibration of the airplane seats, still hearing the buzz sound in his ears. Even though he blacked out soon after turbulence hit, as he just told Kate using a fake grass plane to help his story, Jack still could hear the loud pops in his head as pieces slowly peeled off the aircraft like velcro.

"I don't know," Jack admitted, hating that he couldn't offer more reassurance, "maybe we ran out of fuel-" he took a moment to glance around him, observing the island's higher grounds, "or maybe something else."

Waves continued to roll in, bringing in a breeze, relieving them from the sun's heat as they contemplated Jack's proclamation. All was quiet on the dead beach except for the crashing waters, and the shallow breathings of the shrapnel man. It all felt very awkward, very surreal. If they were to get rescued in the next half-hour, what would've come out of this experience? What was the point?

"You never did tell me your name."

Jack looked up, startled at the sudden question. He had to think for a moment, his own name sounding distant in memory.

"Jack," he finally said.

The woman studied him for awhile, and once again Jack got the feeling that she was contemplating his trust. He knew he couldn't blame her, they were complete strangers, but he couldn't help but to try and decipher something more from it.

"I'm Kate," she offered, revealing her identity.

With a small smile Jack nodded and stood.

"Where're you going?" Kate asked.

She sounded worried, suddenly afraid. He actually felt slightly flattered. Another smile escaped him. It felt weird, smiling around all this death.

"We need to get this guy out of the sun," Jack announced, hands on his hips.

Kate immediately got to her feet at his words.

"Do you think it's safe?" She asked. "Moving him close to the jungle? We don't know what's out there."

Turning, Jack gazed towards the ocean of trees and woods behind him. As much as he wanted to laugh it off and say 'How bad can it be?', he knew she was right. He decided to give rescue another half hour, then he'd move him.

"Then I guess we should get some sun-block for this guy."

(space)

Having lived in the city all his life, Jack wasn't prone to such a starry night. It was beautiful, he had to admit. When rescue never showed up he and Kate remained quiet, both too secretly nervous to say anything. As the sun began setting Jack built a fire and fished out some in-flight dinners. Silently they ate, keeping close to the shore to try and escape the smell of death. Now, a few hours later, Jack sat a lone, staring up at the night sky as Kate slept soundly nearby. Taking a moment he looked to her, just to double check that she was still okay. Though it was meant as a quick glance, Jack found himself unable to look away for a moment. Her peaceful appearance surprised him, calmed him even, speaking that they were just in a plane crash. Suddenly Jack felt very tired. He laid down but, determined to stay awake to watch over things, he promised himself he'd only rest for a second.

Two hours later, Jack awoke at the sound of a loud screech. Immediately his sleep wore off, and he cursed at himself for failing as he jumped to his feet. Barely a yard away Kate was getting up as well, though the man with the shrapnel remained in his deep state. Following the screech came the sound of what sounded like medal scraping against medal, and both Jack and Kate winced at the ear-piercing sound, horrific and loud enough to wake the dead. Slightly paranoid, Jack stole a glance around the wreckage and bodies on the beach.

Suddenly the trees swayed, and their eyes followed, alert, as the jungle moved in rhythm to the crashing. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. It was another moment before either said anything, too shocked to to speak up. Finally, Kate opened her mouth:

"What the hell was that?"

(space)

The night past slowly after that. Shrapnel guy got more sleep than the both of them combined, and the breeze that developed over night shook Jack. His suite jacket was laying on the ground nearby, but for some reason, Jack couldn't bring himself to put it on. Morning greeted him after a short doze with a beautiful ocean view and a mango at his side. As his eyes fluttered open, he noticed Kate was standing just in the tide, running water down her arms. She was staring out to sea, smiling to herself. _Smiling to herself._

"You look like you've never seen an ocean before," Jack commented, rubbing his head as he sat up.

Despite his life in California, Jack hadn't slept on the beach since he ran away from home when he was ten. Then again at thirteen. Then again at seventeen. Jack almost snorted, thinking how pathetic that sounded. He looked up just in time to notice Kate smiling again.

"I was just in Australia," Kate reminded him in a tease.

Jack laughed a little.

"Right."

Wiping her hands on her pants, Kate stepped out of the tide.

"So what's the call on the shrapnel guy today?" She asked, walking towards Jack.

Helpless, Jack looked down at the man dubbed as 'Shrapnel guy'. Today, he knew, he'd have to take the shrapnel out. If rescue didn't arrive, Jack would have to take it out in an hour or two, at the latest. The process would be painful, especially if Shrapnel Guy woke up.

"I'll have to take it out," Jack sighed, throwing a towel he was using to dry off his own hands with.

"And I thought our nickname was so creative," Kate joked lightly.

She stepped beside him, looking down- in particular, Jack noticed- at the shrapnel in the man's stomach.

"When's the surgery?" She asked, serious now in respect for the situation.

Jack stared down at the injured patient, contemplating time.

"An hour," Jack decided.

Kate considered the estimate.

"What're we going to do until then?" She wondered out-loud.

"Wait for rescue," Jack replied, going back to work on the wound.

Above him Kate watched, observing the professional way in which he handled the situation. He appeared so calm, so together, while her mind was spinning, trying to gather the trauma thrown at it.

"How's your back?" She asked, growing uncomfortable at the silence.

"Huh?" Jack asked, glancing towards her. In quick reply, his back suddenly screamed in pain as he bent down again. "Oh, it's fine."

A lie, but he worried that if Kate knew of the truth, she would insist he'd stop working on the shrapnel guy. But then again, he didn't even know her, how was it that he could except that of her? _Because she was the one who asked in the first place,_ his mind answered him. Jack shook the voice out of his head, letting hopes of rescue take over. Not for himself, but for the man below him who was on the verge of death, dying on an island he never got the chance to see.

"What do you think that thing was last night?"

It seemed that every-time things would start to get quiet, Kate would speak up, bringing an abrupt end to the silence as though she were afraid of losing the conversation. Not that it wasn't a question Jack wasn't asking himself. For half of the night he stayed up, the sounds of the jungle haunting his mind. That, combined with the sounds of the plane crashed, seemed to be glued into his mind, taking up his hearing capabilities. Even now he could still hear distant echoes of the noises; the swaying of the trees, the screams..

"Have you ever been to the Bronx?" Jack asked her.

Kate's reaction modeled the surprise he'd been expecting. He had a working theory, but it was just missing something; one of those things where it felt so familiar, but you just couldn't put a name on it.

"I went there on business once," Jack began in explanation, "I don't know, there was just something..familiar..about it."

A new silence fell over them, and Jack found himself waiting for Kate to spark conversation again. This time, however, she remained quiet. After a moment, he realized he was actually disappointed. He didn't know her very well, but Jack didn't mind talking with Kate. She seemed like a unique person, someone independent, most likely used to keeping to themselves, but still able to adapt to others.

"So you think you remember the sound from the Bronx?"

Jack almost sighed in relief. With the crashing of the waves, mixed in with the smell of death and dying, Jack was afraid that if they were to be quiet any longer he'd sink right into the place.

"Like I said," Jack said with a shrug, "I don't know." He let a short pause pass for Kate to take this in. "So where are you from?"

Once again she looked startled at his question, but this time he hadn't expected it. She hesitated.

"I'm sorry," Jack apologized quickly, worrying about overstepping his boundaries as a near-stranger, "I shouldn't have."

"It's fine," Kate said, shaking her head. Subconsciously she pulled a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm from Canada."

"Canada?" Jack replied, impressed. "It's cold up there."

He mentally kicked himself for saying such a stupid thing. Beginning to blush, Jack was surprised that Kate didn't laugh at him right then.

"Well there aren't any beaches," Kate said, amused, "none you'd actually consider swimming at, anyway." Jack had to laugh at his own stupidity. "You seem to know the place. Have you been there before?"

Grateful that Kate didn't pick at him too much, Jack didn't even realize what answer he gave until after he said it.

"Honeymoon," he admitted.

Kate's eyebrows shot up. For a moment Jack could've sworn he saw a flash of hurt come over her. Or maybe that was just what he wanted to see. _You're moving too fast,_ his mind warned, _don't get hurt. _And Jack knew those thoughts deserved respect. He was a person who'd been hurt by many people he grew to love, but this was just a woman he met yesterday. They were alone on an island. They were entitled to some conversation, right?

"Really?" Kate finally said, covering up her moment wonderfully. "So you're wife, was she-" suddenly Kate stopped, bringing her hand up to her face once again in sick realization. "Oh God, I'm sorry."

Jack realized what she meant, and let out a laugh in guilt to relieve her.

"No," he assured, "we got divorced a few years ago."

"Oh," Kate said softly, "I'm sorry."

He swallowed hard, determined not to let the mention of his past marriage get to him.

"It's okay," he said finally.

For the next moment Kate looked down at the shrapnel guy, letting Jack have the silence he gave her earlier, though out of pure respect. She knew only too well what it was like to lose someone you love. Meanwhile, Jack was trying to remind himself that that was in the past and this was the present. It was his belief that the two shouldn't be allowed to collide in a perfect world. Of course, they didn't exactly live in a perfect world either.

"So why'd you pick Canada?" She said, adding quickly: "If you don't mind me asking."

Jack shrugged.

"It's a beautiful place," he said, "and my father hates the cold."

Smug, Jack smiled to himself at the memory. Seeing his smirk, Kate returned it.

"So you two aren't close?" Kate asked curiously.

"You could say that."

Jack paused, his breath suddenly caught in his throat. _Daddy's not here now Jack._He shivered at the voice, sounding just like his father's devilish version of a ghost itself, echoing in the dark night while he wondered if his spirit still roamed the graveyards. But it wouldn't be a graveyard the spirit would be haunting. Jack hadn't taken a close look at the wreckage yet, but he was sure he'd know if his father's body bag showed up. So far, it hadn't.

Seeing that she went in a touchy place, Kate changed the subject.

"So do you think he's going to be okay?" Kate asked for the dozenth time, like a kid begging a parent for something.

For a second, he thought she meant his father, but of course she couldn't have; that was just his shaken mind playing tricks. Evil, cruel, tricks of memory and haunting that'd linger on, eating his sanity up in years of time. And this was only the beginning.

"Yeah," Jack remembered to say, "but I don't think we should wait anymore."

Kate looked up at him.

"What?"

Her face looked full of hard worry, deepened concern for this stranger with a creative nickname.

"The shrapnel," Jack explained, "I need to take it out, it's slowing down his breathing."

"Is that a bad thing?" Kate said in an all too familiar panic, a tone Jack had heard an infinite amount of times with worried loved ones. A tone he would end up either brightening or worsening.

Jack nodded.

"It could be."

The day was growing increasingly hot, and even though shrapnel guy was in the shade, it could very possibly effect his wound. Making a final decision, Jack knelt on the ground. He stared at the shrapnel in the man's stomach for a long second, already hearing the screams that would soon feel the air. No one could sleep through that kind of pain. Part of Jack wondered what the man would think, waking up to a stranger on an unfamiliar place. A new worry set in, the thoughts of the man dying of panic now entering his mind.

"Can you hold him down?" Jack asked Kate, squinting at the sun's rays as he looked up at her, pleading for her help.

She nodded her head, and Jack sighed in relief. Kneeling down opposite from him, Kate took the man's shoulders. The way she flinched violently as her hands landed on shrapnel guy's skin went unnoticed by Jack, as did the new fear in her eyes.

"On three."

Kate nodded again. As Jack counted he closed his eyes, whispering in his mind a prayer to no one in particular. If God received it, them him. Or she. Or whomever. Deep down he was angry, furious, with the way his life turned out, and at the moment, he felt very unwillingly to give faith a chance. But this man needed faith, hope, something. Maybe a miracle.

"Three."

Immediately the man screamed, sending loud echoes of pain bouncing off the hilltops and mountain walls. Hollow tunnels of the island's undergrowth could've felt the vibration of the cry, and its rivers could've empathized the blood.

"Hold him still," Jack instructed Kate, who looked sick in a small doubt and a much larger fear.

That's when he realized the screaming stopped, its memory still playing in his ears and leaving behind painful gasp of air. Then he noticed where the man's eyes laid, his eyes wild and bloodshot as he stared in tremendous effort- as if wanted to provoke- at Kate. Jack glanced up at her, debating whether or not to say something. He didn't want her to feel afraid since, under the circumstances, this behavior could be considered normal, but Kate looked more terrified than ever. Slowly she realized her grip on shrapnel guy, resulting in the man falling in a gasp of a collapse on the sand. Jack could've sworn he heard the echo of the fall as Kate ran away. He tried desperately to call after her as she ran into the unfamiliar terrors of the jungle, but it led to no prevail. She was gone.

It wasn't until nightfall that she returned, marking a day and a half on the island. The jungle remained quiet, giving the now equally as silent and calm patient another chance to rest. Jack was sitting by the fire, poking at a tv dinner he prepared himself out of the sheer boredom of waiting. In order to keep himself from an early insanity, a prescription that wasn't due for the time being, Jack kept belief in the fact that Kate would return. After all, where would she go?

She came back in a slow walk, strutting her feet across the sand as her toes shifted in the grains. Distressed, Kate walked towards him, her silluhette radiating dread. As tempting as it was to watch her as she approached, studying her as description could possibly give more than words ever could, Jack kept his eyes to the ground so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was for her to run again. At last, Kate's shadow appeared behind him.

"How is he?" She asked, forcing the words out.

Her voice sounded raspy, a sign of a long cry.

"I-" Jack swallowed, he didn't want to say it.

During the day Jack let worries of Kate take over guilt and anger. Shrapnel guy only grew worse as hours past, developing a high fever as he slept. He awoke around midday with a brutal cough, claiming he felt nauseated before falling back into his usual unconscious state.

"I think he's going to die," Jack finished, heaving a breath of air, showing his self-frustration.

Kate was silent for a moment, letting the pause linger on unlike earlier. She offered no words of encouragement or sympathy, words that only the deepest, most helpless part of Jack knew he needed to hear, though he knew it whole in denial.

"Will it be painful?" Kate wanted to know, swallowing hard to get her words out.

Jack stared deeply into a fire, wishing desperately for it to turn into some form of transportation to a hospital. Explaining to the world how nearly all the survivors were killed in the crash would be hard enough, but how would he explain the death on the island? The one he couldn't save? How could he tell that to the man's family, looking them in the eye and saying that he failed, letting the man die with not even a true name. One small part of Jack could only hope that years later they could look back and chuckle at 'Shrapnel Guy', just like 'Big Pete' and 'Tiny'.

"Yes," Jack admitted.

That was possibly the worse part. Because more than likely, tomorrow the man would be wide awake, screaming once more in agony, beginning for the relief that Jack could not give him. Maybe rescue would still come. Maybe there would be a miracle. But in the long run, Jack knew better to depend on miracles. They were like a charity offer: it would do you good for now, but in short time you'd be on your own again to scavenge for hope.

"I'm going to turn in," Kate whispered in attempts to hide her emotion. She failed, as Jack was able to since her dreaded fear as she walked off, disappearing as suddenly as she came.

(space)

Just like the previous night, at some point Jack managed to drift off into a doze. He blamed it on the ocean's calming waves, luring him into a necessary sleep for any healthy man, despite Jack's own beliefs for himself. Originally he intended to stay awake all night to keep an eye on shrapnel guy, not wanting to put the pressure on Kate, remembering her tensious behavior towards him.

He awoke just in time to hear the soft shuffling of feet across sand, moving past him quickly in barefoot, clearly to cover up any noise from the frantic pace. Holding his breath, Jack struggled to listen as the footsteps carefully resigned behind him, coming to a stop. It was silent for a minute, and somehow Jack could feel the person thinking behind him. Hesitance wasn't the vibe he received, but acknowledgment. Much later on, however, he'd be sure he was wrong. Just as he began to feel lightheaded, the silence was over, and a single gunshot fired through the still night. And that was the last thing he heard.


	3. Culprit

On An Island

Chapter Three

**Chapter Three:** Culprit

_Bang Bang Bang_

The gunshots rang through the air like wildfire, bouncing off the waves and rolling back in with the tide. Immediately Jack jumped up, startled but alert at the unfamiliar sound. Gunshots were something only heard on television to Jack, coming in between old static from the occasional _Gunsmoke_ rerun at three in the morning; but he remember hearing that gunshots sounded like firecrackers..and they did. For some reason he felt like yelling, but choked at the taste of smoke when he opened his mouth to do so. Through the parting cloud Jack could make out a shadow of a figure standing nearby, gun drawn out in front of them. The echo of his feet hitting the sand reminded him of old western standoffs, and the moonlight perfectly led his way to the culprit, who was standing shocked before the body on the ground.

"Kate?" Jack asked carefully, disbelief choking through as he wondered if he was dreaming. Subconsciously he raised his hands in protection as he approached her.

Stepping beside her, Jack turned towards her, almost not wanting to. The gun was shaking dangerously in Kate's hand, and as his eyes met hers, he could see her moonlit face was pale, her hair sweaty and unkept, as if she'd been stressing. She was trembling as she looked at him, but yet she still seemed to have control over herself. So much confusion came from their connection that it became too much for Jack. He certainly felt confused..just earlier he was admiring Kate for her ability to stay calm and be able to deal with this trauma, but now he was wondering where that motivation came from. Feeling hurt as well, Jack became angry in the realization that he had been betrayed. Kate didn't attempt to break their eye contact or fight back as Jack forced the gun away from her hand, knuckles red from its hold on the gun. As his hand brushed against hers, Jack felt some kind of electric shock go through his body, sending a cold shiver down his spine. It made him stop for a second before he, piece by piece, took apart the gun, trying his best to remain calm. But Kate just kept staring at him, eyes deep in remorse, begging for forgiveness. Forgiveness. The thought made Jack angry, disgusted. That's when he thought to look at the victim on the ground. Slowly he turned his head, Kate's eyes still watching as he forced himself to look at the body in the sand. On the ground, with three bullet holes in his chest, was the shrapnel guy; dead, with no name.

"What the hell did you do?"

The demand escaped Jack without second thought, and he dropped to the ground, letting the gun parts fall beside him. On impulse Jack checked for a heart beat, but with the amount of blood spilt on the ground, it was obvious his condition: dead.

"What were you thinking?" Jack exclaimed, desperately trying to think of something he could still do to save the man, no matter how outrageous it seemed. He looked up at her, unable to look at the body any longer, not wanting to face it. The man was dead. There was nothing he could do. "I was going to save him!"

"No you weren't!" Kate cried out, shouting over the cool air.

Her whole body was trembling now.

"Yes I was!" Jack protested, jumping to his feet to face Kate. "I was going to save him, and he was going to live."

"No you weren't!" Kate shouted again, her voice shaking. "He was dying, Jack!"

"At least until we can get him to a hospital!" Jack yelled. "He would've been fine!"

"A hospital?" Kate breathed. She let out a laugh, running a hand over her ponytail. "Does it look like we're going to be in a hospital anytime soon, Jack? You couldn't save him." She met his eyes helplessly, making Jack think that she actually meant what she said next: "I'm sorry."

Jack shook his head. He wouldn't accept it. This couldn't of been his fault, not this time. Not when Kate was standing right here, a gun in her head. Though if someone were to walk into the scene at that moment, the gun would be closest to him, and it would be his fingerprints on the body..Jack shook his head again. Now _that_ was an outrageous thought.

"You _murdered_ him," Jack accused coldly.

Kate's expression softened immediately, changing gracefully into hurt. The comment clearly had an effect on her, and Jack almost regretted saying it as the shock in Kate's eyes was gone, replaced by stunned sadness.

"You don't know me," Kate whispered, her voice wavering worse than ever.

Staring at her, Jack fought the moment to analize her words, her emotion. Earlier Jack was sure she was beginning for forgiveness, but now it was more of an understanding, like Jack was supposed to get something. But all Jack got was that she killed an innocent man.

"You killed him, Kate," Jack said, less forcefully this time, "what did he ever do to you?"

Kate shook her head, biting her lower lip in attempts to hold back tears.

"You don't know me," Kate repeated, and turned and walked away before Jack could see her watering eyes.

(space)

Night past slowly, but not steadily. Jack stayed on the beach while Kate resumed to be missing once again. Knees pulled up to his chest, Jack found himself unable to sleep a wink as he kept a watchful eye on the shore, as if he had been dubbed protector of the island. Shrapnel guy's dead body lay behind him, and as time past it began to feel like a personal duty to sit there, as if he owed it to the man. As if he deserved to be forced to wallow in his own guilt. If only rescue had come..why hadn't rescue came?

When morning finally arrived, despite his exhaustion, Jack dug a shovel out of some of the wreckage. Only for a moment did he question why a shovel would be on a plane; by the time he reached the body the puzzlement was long forgotten. Alone he dragged the body a little ways off the beach, carrying it to a solitary space of curved land, grass perfectly moist for digging. It was almost eerie. Sitting down the body, Jack stuck the head of the shovel into the ground, but found himself unable to dig the first hole. He was frozen, staring at the ground in helplessness. _It shouldn't be this man,_ Jack thought in horrific realization,_ it should be my father._ Sweat was already dripping down his forehead, and Jack wiped his face with an arm as his eyes began to sting. Jack forced himself together, and with every ounce of energy he could pull together, began digging.

As he dug Jack tried not to think about Kate and her whereabouts. He tried to tell himself that she had murdered someone, she didn't deserve sympathy. But even if that's what the rule said, Kate's haunting eyes came to mind, and the desperateness in them. Jack began digging faster despite his promise to pace himself. When he met her Jack was so sure that there was something different about Kate, but then again he never decided what that was.

"Jack?"

He looked up. Kate was standing there, dried tears gathered on her face. She wasn't wearing eyeliner, Jack observed, or any type of makeup for that matter. Was it because she didn't care, or did she not have the time? Jack nearly laughed, realizing that just a few moments ago he was trying to figure out why this woman was a murderer.

"What are you doing?" Kate asked in a demanding voice, watching Jack as he forced the shovel deeper and deeper into the ground. His arms and back were aching, but Jack made himself ignore it. He had to finish the graves.

"I'm burying him," Jack replied, more forcefully than he meant.

Kate stared at him.

"Why?" She finally asked, like the answer offended her.

Jack looked up.

"Because I have to," Jack responded truthfully.

The man might not of been his father, but he was just another life Jack couldn't save. What happened to the days when people flew in from around the globe to praise him for his miracles?

"Why bury him and not the others?" Kate inquired, crossing her arms in confusion. "Don't they deserve a proper funeral?"

Jack sighed. Honestly he hadn't considered this, and felt guilty at the realization.

"Yeah," Jack nodded, "they do. But there's a lot of them. I figured we'd let rescue handle it."

"You seem so sure of yourself," Kate began.

She seemed back to her old self, admiring and indulgent. It was relieving. Suddenly Jack stopped in realization of what he was doing. Part of him, Jack observed, was wanting to forgive Kate..maybe even making excuses for her. The situation was too traumatic. Maybe she wasn't herself. Maybe she was sleepwalking. _Maybe I was dreaming._ But it all felt so real. The betrayal was so real.

"Maybe I have reason to be," Jack said lightly, laughing to himself.

Kate didn't respond. Instead she watched him, following his every move as he stuck the shovel in the ground, dug a hole, and repeated the process.

"Need some help?" She offered quietly.

Because of her soft voice Jack couldn't decide if she was sincere or guilty. Either way he was finding it very stressful to be in Kate's presence right now. Until he could find some understanding of her actions, Jack didn't know how long he'd be able to hold himself together, how long it would be until he lashed out.

"I've got it," Jack said, glancing towards her and holding his gaze for a split second before staring once again down into the almost-complete grave. The concept was actually becoming ridiculous, digging this hole just to refill it in short time; putting a life to a peaceful rest while in reality burying it, like you were hiding it away.

"I'm-" Kate began suddenly, cutting into Jack's thoughts before he was ready.

"Don't."

When he looked up, it was obvious she was hurt- once again- by his denial to her forgiveness. Why was she doing this? It was driving Jack insane..it was like she regretted the murder _for him_. Kate's eyes came close to watering again as she looked down and walked away again, opposite the direction of their camp. Jack looked after her, torturing his mind to understand her. At last Jack had to shake his head and go back to his work, too frustrated to make himself think.

An hour later Jack had the grave ready, and hesitantly dropped the shovel to begin the burial. He'd been so keen to bury the man that he forgot to search his pockets and clothing for any valuables, anything worth burying along with him or saving for family. Dropping to his knees, Jack felt alone now more than ever. Deep down he was hoping that Kate would come back, that she hadn't run off for good. Doing this alone, even just surviving here, was asking a lot from Jack's current state of mind. Jack let out a long, dramatic sigh, knowing no one was watching. When his sigh disappeared, Jack knew it was time to do this.

Unlatching the tarp Jack used for a body bag, he examined the man's wound one last time. Blood clotted at the old shrapnel wound, and a scar highlighted the cut on his head. Jack held his breath as he checked the man's jacket pockets. The first thing he found was a badge.

"So you were a marshal?" Jack asked the dead man. Smiling grimly, Jack sat the badge back down on the jacket. "Well thanks for your services. Sorry I don't have a flag or anything.."

Jack stopped short as his hands fell on a piece of paper. Slowly Jack pulled it out and was just about to take a peak at it when there was a crunch near by. Nearly jumping out of his skin Jack looked around, and sighed in relief when he saw nothing. He looked down at the piece of paper before placing it in his own pocket. Suddenly he wanted to hurry the process up.

When Jack was finished with the burial process and the last shovel of dirt was replaced, he began heading back to camp. Or what one would call camp. There was still a good deal of food left in the cart they pulled out of the wreckage, and Jack's rumbling stomach reminding him that he wasn't eating nearly as much as he used to- which wasn't much to begin with. Being deprived of coffee was also taking it's toll, but at least the loss of sleep wasn't a problem. It was something he was used to.

With the responsibility of taking care of the marshal- Edward Mars was the name Jack found on his drivers license- Jack hadn't given himself much time to think about much otherwise. As he walked through the jungle Jack grabbed a leaf from a tree and tore it piece by piece as each thought came to him. Would someone be there for him at work? What about the food in the fridge? The bills? Then the more serious thoughts hit him in a frightening florescent light. Did someone tell his mom about his father? How did she react? Jack began to become choked with guilt, knowing that she'd have to go through that alone.

Suddenly a light reflected in his eyes, causing him to shut his eyes quickly in surprise. Relieving himself from a momentary headache, Jack opened his eyes and looked down to see what caused the glisten. He frowned as he bent down and dug up the silver object, pulling it out of the ground with anxious anticipation; and Jack gasped softly as he saw what it was: handcuffs.

(space)

A soft sunlight welcomed him back to the beach, and Jack found himself sighing as he looked around the camp. Every time he walked away, some part of his mind became convinced that what he left, what was back there, wasn't true. It'd be like a dream, where you could only move forward. Anything behind you was false. It was all a trick. But then he'd return, see the smoke that still hung in the air, see the bodies, smell the blood, and he knew. He remembered.

His eyes scanned the beach in wonder of what was going to happen next. What was he supposed to do? Go after Kate, perhaps? But from what it looked like, he wouldn't have to. He was free from his worries when he saw that Kate had indeed returned to camp, and was sitting on the shore, letting the waves crash against her, no matter how roughly they were coming. She didn't hear him approached, or at least acted like she didn't. Jack froze when he reached her, realizing he had no clue what he wanted to say. Should he yell? Or should he go easy on her? Was that fair? Like Kate said, he didn't know her..

"I found these in the jungle," Jack began slowly to break the ice, "I was wondering if you've seen them before."

Dangling the handcuffs beside Kate, Jack watched her closely for a reaction, almost studying her. Just as he decided to back off a little, he noticed Kate tense.

"I'll take that as a no," Jack said quickly, bringing the handcuffs back and stuffing them in his back pocket. A new tension rose in the air, and Kate's appearance changed from distant to quite alert as she stiffened a little. Jack thought that at any wrong movement, Kate could've taken him down right then and there.

"What were you going to do?" Kate asked lightly after a few moments of silence. "Handcuff me to the wreckage?"

"Only if you want me to," Jack replied in efforts to keep up with Kate's comic relief.

He offered Kate a small smile which wasn't returned.

"I saw some smoke," Kate whispered following a short pause.

Jack knelt down next to her, interested.

"What?" He inquired.

"Just past the jungle," Kate said, her voice becoming slightly distant as she explained, "I thought you might like to know."

He considered what she was saying.

"Are you suggesting something? He asked, raising a hand.

Kate turned to him, offering him a glimpse into her facial emotions, showing off her sad eyes, still full of previous hurt and what could be guilt.

""I was thinking of the cockpit," Kate explained, "it's not here on the beach."

Jack looked around the beach curiously but, of course, she was right. He had said so himself the day before. The day before..he couldn't believe time was always being gathered.

"No," Jack agreed, "it's not."

Thinking about this, Jack realized what Kate was suggesting. The cockpit would include radio equipment, assuming it was all still intact, and most importantly, a transceiver. If they could get a signal and if it were still working properly, there was a chance they could send out an S.O.S. But that was a lot of 'ifs'.

"Well, we crashed through the jungle," Jack pointed out, "at least part of the way. It shouldn't be that far out."

"If you're thinking of going," Kate said quietly, "so am I."

A knot of nerves formed in Jack's stomach. He didn't know which would be harder, spending time in the jungle with Kate, knowing that she murdered someone, or spending time in the jungle with Kate.

"I'll go," Jack argued, attempting to take the easy way out.

"You're not going alone," Kate protested, "your back-"

Though he was flattered she was still concerned about him despite their strained communication, Jack felt the need to support his argument.

"My back's fine," Jack insisted, "what about rescue?" Kate snorted at the word. Jack closed his eyes, determined not to lose patience. "What are we going to do? Leave a note that says 'hey, went to the cockpit. Sorry we missed you.'?"

"Works for me," Kate smirked.

Jack sighed. Now he was just fighting a losing battle. Maybe he still had time to guilt her out of leaving before going. It wasn't that he wanted to leave her alone, but the truth was that were rescue to come while they went, they would be overlooked. And he certainly didn't want Kate going out there on his own. Just like Kate couldn't help to worry about his wound, he couldn't help but to worry about her safety. Whatever choice they made they'd be taking a risk. Looking down, Jack noticed the slightly dressy sandals Kate had been wearing since the crash.

"Well if you're going," Jack sighed, "You'll need some better shoes."

(space)

While he waited for Kate to get ready Jack got together a pack for himself, his fingers shaking a little as he unzipped a dead man's backpack. Inside was a traveler's guide to the States, a copy of _The Odyssey_, a thick notebook. From the items and a pair of reading glasses in the front pocket, Jack could make a fair guess that the man had been a professor. Placing the objects carefully next to the man's body, Jack refilled the bag with essentials for the jungle trek: water, first aid supplies, hand towels. Somehow he thought that if he brought supplies just in case of survivors, there'd be survivors. As he fished through the rest of the pockets in search for more memorabilia, he hit the jackpot: a compass. Thinking it might come in handy, Jack stuffed it in the pocket of the pair of jeans he reluctantly changed into, feeling guilty for borrowing clothes from the deceased passengers. His fingers rubbed against the sharp edge of paper, and Jack reached into his pocket, remembering the paper he retrieved from the marshal's pockets. Setting the compass down Jack slowly opened the paper, and when he saw what was on the inside, Jack was more convinced than ever this had to be a dream; no matter what he remembered. For a long second his mind stopped, and his eyes became glued to the picture that was printed on the page: a mug-shot. A mug-shot of Kate.

"You ready?"

With a jolt Jack had to concentrate hard on not exclaiming in surprise. Kate waited behind him, her own new backpack over slung over her shoulders, arm crossed. She was clearly anxious to get going. Despite almost getting caught at his discovery, it made Jack feel a little better seeing that Kate had changed clothes as well, or at least shoes. Jack quickly stuffed the paper back into his pocket, hoping Kate didn't see.

"Yeah," Jack said, a little too late.

Kate raised an eyebrow but didn't ask questions as Jack zipped up the backpack and through it over his shoulders.

"Let's go."


	4. Away From Me

On An Island

Chapter Four

**Chapter Four:** Away From Me

The rain pounded down harder than either of them had ever felt it before. Kate usually enjoyed the rain, but not when it prevented her for seeing, and when it came down so hard it stung against her throat. Even though the rainstorm was all but near closer, the humidity was already building up, and Kate contemplated shedding her over-shirt jacket as they made their way to where they believed the cockpit was, but that would mean carrying it all the way. She supposed she could've always stopped and put in in her bag, but with the uncomfortable tension between her and Jack, Kate was afraid to mention anything about resting, though they could've both used it. It's not such a big deal anyway, Kate tried to convince herself. Ahead of her Jack walked on, using a long limb he found as a walking stick to support him. Every now and then he would wince in pain as the slope grew steeper, but he never once stopped. One thing, she knew, was on his mind. Rescue. Getting away from her.

Grimacing, Kate remembered Jack's hurt and confused reaction to the murder. The way he grabbed the gun from her and took it apart. The way he scolded her; the obvious disappointment in his eyes. But in the end he had still buried the marshal. She was almost mad at him for it, like the man didn't deserved to be buried. Like her newest crime was nothing. It wasn't as if she was a cold-blooded killer, because she wasn't- even if law claimed it. But the marshal..she shivered at the thought. He deserved it, she told herself, and that's that.

"It should be right up here," Jack called, over the way.

She didn't question how Jack knew that nor the sudden way he was speaking to her. They hadn't talked the entire journey. But sure enough, only a few yards ahead was a small clearing, and as they crept around the trees they could see the cockpit come into view. Kate didn't know what she had expected, but it wasn't this. The way the part of the plane was balanced in the trees, the back end evenly ripped off, leaving seats dangly out on hinges, made it looked like King Kong took it and slung it into the jungle. After whatever sound it was they heard the other night, she actually wouldn't of been that surprised.

Jack was the first to step towards the wreckage. Eager not to be left behind, Kate quickly followed, appearing beside him as Jack peered into the cockpit.

"You don't have to go up there," he told her, his voice flat. She couldn't help but to wonder if he would've been more reassuring had her anger not struck out like a bullet. Literally.

"I'm going," Kate announced, matching his tone.

Sighing, Jack placed his hands on either side of the walls that should've appeared more fragile in thought after such a wreck. Suddenly, in a horrific vision, Kate pictured Jack hoisting himself into the cockpit, adding on his weight, resulting in the cockpit tipping, moving forward..crushing him. Killing him.

"Maybe I should go first," Kate said as suddenly as the thought that came to her.

Jack shook his head in protest, not bothering to look at her in reassurance that he'd be alright. The lack of that assurance was beginning to make Kate angry. Though sympathy and soothing words wasn't something she enjoyed admitting needing, she'd grown used to it after their first day on the island.

"I've got it," Jack said, placing his hand in front of her to prove her point.

His voice spoke of confidence, but Kate couldn't see how anyone could be so confident about going into such a place. Unless they were putting on an act for someone else. The thought relieved Kate a little, but still she protested.

"I'm lighter," she pointed out, "climbing's like..my life."

That much, at least, wasn't a lie. Memories came in clips as Kate smiled sadly, images of her miniature self racing Tom to the top of a tree, laughing..happy. Later on in life those experiences would come in handy in more ways than she could've ever imagine. Escaping bank robberies. Bad guys. The real bad guys. Some molecule of reality reminded her to come back, that reveries weren't allowed in situations like this. But at the same time, she couldn't help but to wonder what Jack was thinking. Was he awaiting rescue like a ticket into heaven, depending on it like a lottery number? Of course he was. He probably had family back at home. A job that needed him. Kids, even. A life worth being rescued for. Not jail. Not a scheduled life of an hour of sun a day. If she was lucky. She couldn't live like that, so controlled. Locked up with no negotiation. Unfairness beyond a humane limit.

The thought almost wanted to make Kate turn around and run.

_Always running.._

"I've got it," Jack insisted, already lifting himself up into the cockpit.

The plane part squeaked in protest to the new weight, and Kate closed her eyes, ready for the screams. But they never came. Opening them again, Kate saw that Jack was safely inside. Despite her wavering anger, Kate felt herself sigh in relief.

"It looks clear," Jack called to her. For a split second she wondered if an echoing voice would mean anything against the cockpit's balance. "Well, not clear, but.." he trailed off, and from the sound of it Kate knew he was still looking around, double checking. For him or for her? "You know what I mean."

She'd rather not think about it. Clear meaning there were no risk of a sudden attack, no one alive to lash out at them? Clear meaning everyone inside was dead? Suddenly Jack's hand fell into the air in front of her, and with struggling strength, Kate let him pull her up. Rain forced her to slip, as though it were refusing her help. At last she was able to clutch onto his arm, tightening her fingers around his muscles. He pulled her up, seeming effortless despite his back wound. Once she was in the cockpit Kate grabbed onto the closest thing that would help her move to the front, which was angled impossibly in the trees, almost sticking straight in the air like an arrow. As she trudged through the wreckage she tried not to look at the bodies laying around- some literally laying- and it looked as though Jack were walking with his eyes closed ahead of her. The smell was unreal, and Kate was sure any moment she would get sick. Rain pounded outside, and the further she traveled from it, the more tempting the smell became. Ahead of her Jack was already bashing through the main cockpit door, still sealed shut despite the impact of the crash. As soon as the door was thrown open, a body spilled out and Kate gasped more loudly than she would've like. Jack was already inside, examining the radio equipment.

"None of it's intact," Jack informed her, discouraged.

"Did you expect it to be?" Kate asked as she looked around the small room.

Jack didn't answer her.

"The transceiver should be over here," Jack said, talking more to himself than Kate.

Scooting over to where the pilot lay dead, Jack purposefully avoid looking at the body as he reached around the chair in search of the transceiver. Kate was just inquiring the unscathed post-crash windows when the yelp came, and Jack gasped so loudly in surprise she thought'd his throat closed in.

Despite being the fugitive on the plane, Kate hadn't met the pilot, so she assumed he was a trusting man. After all, the marshal himself was rather rough with her, and to any onlookers that would mean an apparently rough criminal. Little did they know..

She went over what the pilot told her in her mind, all about being a thousand miles off course..being looked for in the wrong place. Vaguely she listened as Jack told him they were the only survivors, and the sick tension could've been sliced through, chopped up into pitiness. That was when the roar came. The pilot was confused, but Jack and Kate were transfixed, horrified by this..monster's..return. Scrambling over the pilot, Jack backed himself away from the window, pressing himself against the wall, as if in a safety drill. Somehow Kate found herself against him, Jack's arms suddenly holding her protectively. She wondered if he realized what he was doing.

(space)

The rain welcomed her as they scrambled out of the cockpit, ready to run for her life. Suddenly, she wasn't too much of a fan of it. Slipping and sliding as they struggled to maintain their balance, Jack and Kate ran away from the cockpit, scurrying like animals for their lives. Soon all Kate could see ahead over her was rain and a blur of jungle, and it wasn't until she was safely hidden away by a grove that she realized she lost Jack. Shaking in the cold rain, the realization came over her hauntingly, as if all hope were already lost. She clung to the bar of the grove, feeling uncomfortably trapped. In that moment she hated herself. What if that thing got him? Whatever it was..her mind winced as she remembered blood spluttering on the plane's windows. She wished she hadn't of accused realism for not wrecking the glass bad enough..

Moments passed and Jack never came. She half expected him to run by, panic in search for her. But he never did. He never even screamed, hoping to find her voice. The thought made her angry, but at the same time desperate. Solitary seemed like the most painful idea, looming over her like a dark storm-cloud. As she shook became more fearful by the moment, even more so when she realized how afraid she was.

_"And I closed my eyes, and let the fear take me, but only for five seconds."_

Jack's words rang in her mind, and the memory made him feel closer. Anything felt better than feeling so trapped, so alone..and Kate prayed that using Jack's tactic would work. So shivering and gripping the rain-drenched bars of the groves tightly, as though trying to break free, Kate shook with the memory, forcing the numbers out along with Jack's voice:

_One.._

_Two.._

_Three.._

Why was she suddenly so dependent on Jack? It infuriated her, to think she needed- wanted- someone so much, especially someone of whom didn't even appear to want her. Not anymore. Because he found out who she really was, and that was only a slash of the truth. What about when he found out about what she did? _Maybe I should shut up, give up.._

But still something pushed her on.

_Four.._

_Five.._

(space)

As the rain died down Kate stumbled into the jungle, desperately trying to free herself of tears. She wasn't going to break down over this, she wouldn't let it. Though still fearful because she hadn't found- or heard- Jack, the fresh air felt good and relieving compared to the grove's cramped space. Arm over her face, Kate was determined not to be sick as she wondered through the trail, feeling incredibly alone. Noticing a mud-dyed puddle ahead, Kate felt herself move mechanically towards it, hoping there'd be some kind of track nearby.

One that could possibly lead to Jack's body..dead and tangle..

She didn't know how she managed to stay intune to her hope, but later on she would realize that as she approach the puddle, it was almost as though erie forshadowment lay within it, starting with the wings- pilot's wings- floating in the muggy water. But they looked more like World War Two versions of wings..the theory immediately left her when she noticed an image floating in the water as well, a strange, disoriented, dream-like picture. Looking above her, Kate stepped back into the puddle in shock and sickness at what she saw in the trees.

"It's the pilot."

Kate nearly dropped, becoming just another picture in the muggy water, at the sound of Jack's voice. She almost smiled, despite the unreal horror above her. As she approached him she contemplated hugging him, despite the muddy conditions they were both in.

"We should get back," Jack announced, ruining any plan Kate had, "I think I can fix the transceiver."

She tried not to show her hurt. Part of her, the small fraction of her who still wanted to be that girl with the crush, suggested that maybe Jack didn't want to seem hypocritical.

"That's good," Kate forced herself to say.

Jack glanced around the pilot to the higher ground. A sinking feeling in her stomach told Kate what he wanted to do. She made herself watch as he planned his route to the top, if not to avoid having to look at the pilot. The man who was just talking to them..so disappointed in such few survivors. Suddenly Kate supported Jack's would-be plan. She almost wanted to get rescued just to prove fate wrong.

"I think I can fix it soon," Jack said confidently, "if you want to save a trip. Kill two birds with one stone."

She shuddered at the word "kill", but luckily Jack didn't catch it. What did she want? She wondered. Forgiveness? An understanding" It was almost like she was wanting to impress him, showing him that she wasn't all so bad. Yeah, an understanding. The thought felt relieving, though in the back of her mind, she knew it was impossible. No one would ever understand..

Soon she found herself on the way to the peak of the island, watching the trail as Jack fiddled with the transceiver. They didn't talk, didn't share theories about what just happened. Like it never did. She supposed Jack was dealing with it in his own way, possibly telling himself he was dreaming things. Part of Kate secretly hoped that wasn't true. But all this thinking was making her guilty, because she hadn't once made a move to explain herself. Then again, he'd hardly given her a chance.

"So when were you planning on talking, Jack?" Kate spoke up after their climb to higher ground. He helped her up on the more rough climbing. She accepted it, though she could've done the task herself.

Jack didn't respond, and a small smile escaped from the corners of her lips.

"The silent treatment," she went on lightly, "how mature."

"Mature," Jack snorted disbelievingly with a shake of his head.

The comment left Kate wounded, and she didn't dare go on any further. She wondered what he thought of her. It was almost insulted to think of after all they had been through that first day, all they had survived, that he would imagine her as a cold-blooded killer. After all, he was still alive to have that option in mind.

"We all have our secrets, Jack." Kate commented, feeling the need to defend herself.

She didn't expect Jack to respond like he did.

"Yeah," Jack shot, spinning around and continuing to walk backwards. Kate had to admire his skill. "Well at least mine doesn't have to be confessed in murder!"

Grimacing, Kate reminded herself that there was no way Jack could know the truth about her. _He's just trying to scare me. Intimidate me._ The thought infuriated Kate, but after all, if Jack did think he was walking around with a ruthless murderer, he'd be trying to get the upper hand.

"You don't-"

His eyes buldged as they met hers, the sympathy and softness of them suddenly gone. Now she almost felt afraid of him. The weak feeling made Kate want to shiver; shake it off and regain her strength.

"You're a murderer, Kate," Jack accused coldly.

She was sure he never used that tone in his personal life, not with any friend, not with any woman. It seemed so out of place in his tone, in fact, that Kate found herself trapped in a whirlwind of memory. Her father yelling at her as a child, her mother's confussion as she left home, Tom dead in the car..the marshal questioning her about what happened.

"I'm innocent," Kate pleaded desperatly, voice trembling a little.

Jack stopped at her desperate tone. It was one they both knew she hardly used, only in the few moments of need, when she was at her breaking point. Her voice almost made him want to question her words, to demand how that was true, and she could see that in his eyes. It almost calmed her. But a soft crackling never gave them the chance.

Their eyes met and the argument was lost. Slowly they looked down at the transceiver in Jack's hands that crackled words back at them in an incoherent language. The world around them seemed to disappear, and the noise freeing itself from the instrument's tiny speakers began to tumble down on them. At last Kate let out the breath she had been holding.

"Can you speak French?" She asked quietly, recognizing the language from one of her overseas travels. Or rather, overseas escapes. But Jack didn't need to know that. She was terrified of what he would do if he found out the truth about her. At least now she had a little hope, but if he found out the truth, she assumed he'd immediately jumped to conclusions. No fair trial. No sympathy. No consideration.

Shaking his head, Jack said: "Can you?"

Kate returned the gesture, and a mutual failure frustrated them both.

"Maybe they'll still come," Jack said hopefully.

Suddenly Kate's throat felt dry. _They'll still come._ Rescue. Immediately she'd be taken, ripped from her new freedom. A freedom she'd have to be very careful of for the time being.

"Maybe," Kate forced herself to reply.

They let the voice keep playing. It was a woman's voice, a French woman, speaking more urgently than one would think a rescue team would.

"Something's wrong," Jack said suddenly, echoing both of their inner worries. Kate watched him as he concentrated hard on what they were hearing, finding herself anticipating his reply. Sweat trickled down her back in a pool of anxiety, but she fought to ignore it. It almost made herself feel dizzy to think of anything other than the voice on that radio. "It's playing in a loop."

Listening closely, Kate began to catch onto what he was saying. The woman would plead her words for a few sentences and then again.

"Any idea how long?" She asked anxiously.

Jack shook his head.

"I don't know how to do the math," Jack said, clearly frustrated with himself. She felt bad for him then, and was about to bring up that she didn't know either when the radio went dead. For a few moments they were each quiet, as if hoping silent patience would bring the voice back. But it never did. "It's dead."

(space)

The walk to the beach was even more quieter than the walk up the hill, if possible. For Jack it was a dead hope, while for Kate it was a secret relief. No rescue to worry about. But now..now they knew they'd be stuck here, and for God knew how long. She didn't want to be stuck in a silence with a man who thought the worst of her. It was too painful to imagine, not only in present, but with memories of the past as well. Closing her eyes, Kate murmured a few words of hope and encouragement in her mind before speaking up.

"There's something you need to understand," Kate began, her voice choking out in a whisper.

"I think I understand fine."

Kate closed her eyes again in a wince, tempted that somehow darkness would help her. When she opened them, Jack spun around so abruptly she almost stumbled back. A hand flew out from where it had been digging around in his backpack, producing a pair of..handcuffs.

She couldn't talk. Jack stared at her, waiting for Kate to say something, but she couldn't. The two circled cuffs that threatened more horror than anything were the last things she wanted to look at, but yet Kate couldn't take her eyes off them. She just looked down at them, defeated at first, but then in disbelieving acceptance. It was like they'd come back to haunt her.

"You don't understand," she forced herself to whisper, determined that if she kept repeating herself then Jack would give her some consideration. Some hope of that understanding she longed for.

"Then tell me what I don't understand."

But she couldn't do that either. Jack's hands shook a little as he held the cuffs in front of him, and as if he caught the weakness himself, he thrust them at Kate to relive himself the burden. The burden of her. The burden of her past that could come in and screw up his life. As if he were so perfect. And he probably was. Kate felt so alone, just wishing there were someone else there that could share her pain. That could at least understand it.

"At least one of us gets our luggage back," Jack snarled forcefully, thrusting the handcuffs into her arms.

He turned, storming down the path. As she stared down at the handcuffs, Kate's mind was so loaded of hurt, betrayal, memory, emotion, that she was actually able to blank out her mind for a moment, and focus souly on Jack. Upon meeting him so much hope lifted her spirits. They hadn't spent much time together, but it wasn't something she didn't enjoy. She came to admire his determination in his work, a personality trait most doctors possessed, but it seemed even more so with Jack. Even after all he'd been through with the crash. Still he wanted to save, even though it seemed like he should be mad at the world. But now..now she was seeing him in a whole different light. Closed-minded. Unforgiving. No shades of grey to be found. Little did he know, Kate was full of grey. That was one positive thought that always kept her going, yet Jack stripped her of it, making her feel more guilty than ever.

And she hoped he was happy.

(space)

That night Jack couldn't sleep. He thought he heard her creeping in the bushes, as if unsure when the right to sneak in was, but then it stopped. During that afternoon he cleaned up the remaining supplies left over from the failed attempt to save the marshal, and a pool of blood that he didn't know what to do with. All of that was still behind him now, as he had grown so frustrated that at sundown he gave up, collapsing in the sand. Now he stared out to sea, hoping for the calming relief of the waves. Kate seemed to find it there, but he couldn't. Then again, he wasn't Kate. He wasn't a murderer.

_But you don't know her._

Jack closed his eyes, grimacing at the thought. It was true, but he didn't want to admit he was wrong. She had a mug-shot, after all, and she was damn good with that gun and its aim. Yet he still found himself regretting his harshness towards her. Kate was crashed here as well. She was probably scared, terrified, of what could happened to her, and he wasn't helping her one bit.

Sometime during his thoughts Jack managed to drift off to sleep. When he awoke the moon was shining somewhere above him, but Jack couldn't turn to look. He froze immediately, realizing he was trapped.

Because even the monster didn't entrap him like the boar standing over him was doing right now.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time..

October Sky


	5. Tabula Rasa

On An Island

Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:** "Tabula Rasa" was, of course, an episode of_ Lost_. It's not an original title. "River" is a beautiful song by Joni Mitchell. If you have access to music downloads, or anyway to get songs, I highly suggest listening to it.

**Chapter Five: **Tabula Rasa

He didn't breathe. He physically couldn't breath. He couldn't even think to breathe. The boar's eyes stared into his, and the only thing Jack could think of was that this time tomorrow, Kate would be burying him. Or what was left of him to bury. If she even went through the trouble. Staring the boar down, Jack suddenly had a creepy sensation that he was being watched, and the creature's pupils bore into him like a time-bomb of murder waiting to explode. And then it did. Agonizing screams of pain echoed through the island as Jack clutched his face. At the time, he hadn't considered himself luckily that the animal's hoof only slightly brushed him as he rushed by.

In moments blood was flowing down his shoulder. Jack couldn't even determine if it were warm or cold. He didn't dare open his eyes again. All he could see was the boar staring down at him. Only when he felt Kate's hand fall on his shoulder did he realize he wasn't dead. The pain didn't subside, but his screams immediately softened into painful gasps for air as Kate forced his hand away, the soft touch of her fingers brushing slightly against the wound. With his good eye, Jack watched her through blood, realizing for the first time how incredibly close they were. She didn't look panicked, but Jack knew she was worried, and he almost felt guilty for it. He'd been pushing her away all afternoon, but if she was a murderous criminal, she would've just left him there bleeding, right?

"It's okay."

The words came to him in surprise, and it took Jack a moment to register what was being said to him. Kate repeated the phrase a few times until it drifted under her breath, becoming more of a reassurance for her than him. As if prepared for the worse, Kate already had a couple of cloths by her side, and she immediately grabbed for one. Jack winced violently as she placed the cloth, embroiden with an Oceanic symbol in the corner, on the wound. The blood soaked through without a moment to spare. Carefully Kate began to lift up the cloth to check the bleeding, but a hand grasped her arm before she could. Kate gasped in surprise, heart raising as she looked to Jack, who was shaking his head. She didn't know why, she had to check on the wound, but Jack was a doctor, so Kate had no choice but to take his word for it.

For what felt like hours she held the pressure to the wound, silently praying for the bleeding to stop. All the while Jack never complained, never even acted like he was in pain. WIthin moments he seemed to slip into the pain himself, accepting it, knowing the fight would be useless. Kate smiled a little at his efforts; it was as though he was making it easier for her. Or maybe that was just in her head.

"God you were lucky," Kate commented along with her smile, "do you have any idea how lucky you are? Boars usually aren't that generous."

Jack gave a weak snort, quickly grimacing in pain.

"Boars?" Jack chocked out, managing the roughest voice.

Kate reached for a bottle of water, and was able to get him to swallow a little before he spit it out in protest. It pained him to try and drank, she decided, so instead of forcing it on him, Kate simply capped the bottle and continued her story.

"I couldn't tell you what kind," Kate said, looking towards the jungle and scanning the woods that lay just off the sand. Suddenly the island seemed much bigger than she pictured it, with endless acres of trees and lands, hills that were brutal to travel, trapping them where they were. Foreign and unknown, what lay past the sand was clearly both dangerous and unhuman...though obviously that didn't rule out the possibility of other life on the island. "But they're food. We'll run out of the airline's soon." She looked down, a sad realization coming over her. "Of course, I'm a vegetarian."

Eyes darting to focus on her, Jack looked both interested and amused by the confession. Kate smiled again. She had to admit to herself that it felt good to be able to talk to him again, especially when he wasn't able to talk back. It was selfish, she knew, but maybe now she'd be able to further her confession, talk to him so that he'd have the option of trying to understand. For years on the run, with every person she meant, Kate had felt like no one would ever understand her, that she would be stuck in her misery alone. And since she was constantly on the go, never staying in one place long enough for someone to suspect or take an interest in her, it was an easy thing to believe. But now, now she was stuck. Her future was immobile, and karma was killing her good instincts. The only choice she had now was to face herself, and she knew that'd be impossible to do, in the long run, without letting someone in. She'd crumble inside, trying to make sense of herself, trying to make something good of herself, until she'd give up. Part of her wanted to think that Jack could be something good for her, if she would just let him be.

"Secret's out," she added with a sad smile.

Jack watched her sympathetically, though after awhile she realized he was waiting for her to do something.

"I guess I need to clean this," she thought out-loud. "Where-"

Lifting a finger, Jack pointed to his bag, which was laying nearby. Kate remembered Jack carefully packing to prepare for their hike to the cockpit, and as she unzipped the back pocket, she couldn't imagine what he left behind. Moving aside a shirt, she found dozens of bottles of antibiotics, pain relievers, and other medication that she didn't recognize.

"You love danger, don't you?" She accused playfully.

Jack grinned weakly, nodding when Kate held up a bottle of medicine, asking if this was the right one. Just as before, Jack kept calm as she cleaned the wound, only flinching once or twice in pain. She wondered to herself if he was used to this, not facing boars, but being injured. Then again he was a doctor, and he probably knew how difficult it was to take care of a fidgeting patient. By the time she was done, Jack looked exhausted, though he'd only laid there. His eyes began to droop to a close, and Kate desperately tried to shake him awake, panicking.

"Hey," she said to him, her own voice shaking, "I don't know if that's a good idea."

But he was already out cold. Sighing, Kate knew there was nothing she could do now, and she fell back into the sand. She watched as Jack fell deep into sleep, and in her mind she could almost feel him falling asleep, drifting into darkness. Shaking herself out of it, Kate forced herself to stay awake. Someone would need to be there when he woke up. The raising sun seemed very welcoming just then, and Kate could almost feel its glow as she turned to it, sitting herself in the sand not far from the shore. A passing breeze calmed her a little, and she realized just then how fast her heart had been pounding. It amazed her that she had been so concerned about Jack just then, while only hours before had she laid awake at night, contemplating means of escape or, worse case scenario, a way of murder. Now she shuddered at the thought.

(space)

_He was twenty-nine when his first patient died. The surgery still played in his head, step by step, even to this day. But back then, it felt like the world was crashing down on him, like there would never be relief from this. Laying on the couch in his father's office, Jack despised where he was. Maybe this was all one bad idea. But this was bigger than an unsuccessful lemonade stand, or faulty car in the middle of a road trip. This was life and death. He didn't close his eyes as he lay there, only stared deeply into the ceiling, honestly trying to sail through it. Disappear._

_The hardest part had been telling the patient's friends. There had been a boy and a girl, both maybe twenty-one; the girl cute with bleach-blonde hair and the boy's jet black. All of them had gone out for the night and ended up underneath an overturned car, glass shattered across the roadway for what they said seemed like miles. The boy's eyes filled with tears, like his own life had been ripped from himself. Beside him the girl was already sobbing with grief, clinging to her friend for support. As he comforted her, the boy gave him a number he was supposed to call to reach a family member, but all Jack could do was stand there, watching them break down, as if he deserved to be apart of that pain. Deep down, he felt like he did. There was still part of him, naturally, that tried to find the blame. He wasn't even three years out of med. school...what were they thinking giving him a responsibility like that? And just to think, that morning he had been so excited to be the head of such a surgical procedure, despite the young age of the patient- twenty._

_A door creaked open, but the sound was so distant in Jack's mind that he was sure he imagined it. But then the familiar sounds of his father's footsteps echoed through the room like a pounding timpani, counting the moments of rest until the approaching interrogation. The file his father would've been holding dropped like deadweight onto his desk, made of the finest would that a doctor like himself was able to afford._

_"They told me you'd be here."_

_His voice sounded like a nightmarish ghost, a haunted figure of the past. It was unemotional, unsympathetic, as if he truly didn't care about what he was saying. That's how it had always been with his father. Whether or not he bore any true feelings towards someone was a theory lost in the air. At the times he would be empathetic, but then he'd stop himself, as if realizing he'd been caught with his walls down. He could build brick barriers faster than anyone Jack knew, and his own greatest fear was becoming this way himself._

_"They told me I should rest," Jack said in disgust. _

_In his mind, Jack secretly wondered if they gave him the procedure just because they knew it was a lost cause. Maybe he was being punished for something he was unaware of...his father's doing, of course. Christian was big on learning lessons. 'The gas ran low on the interstate.' 'You'll know better next time.' 'I ordered the tickets too late.' 'You'll know better next time.' 'A patient died today. I think I did something wrong.'_

_'You'll know better next time.'_

_And Jack was expecting the conversation to flow just like that. Simple, and just encouraging enough so that one could say it happened._

_Christian checked his watch, which would've been set on the dot, right to the very second._

_"Probably because your shift ended three hours ago," he replied curtly._

_Crossing his arms, he studied his son._

_"What are you still doing here, Jack?" He asked, sounding more like a cop than a concerned father._

_Just because of that, Jack didn't answer him. Even if he could've found the slightest trace of worry in his father's voice, Jack would've known better to be fooled by the act. Christian moved to sit down, and Jack sat up to let him. He could admit that their relationship wasn't always so cold and disconnected, but when he was angry, or needed any kind of comforting a parent should be required to give, Jack easily felt it was that way. _

_His eyes burning from lack of sleep, Jack hadn't noticed the second file his father had been holding and was now opening._

_"Amy Austen," Christian read, and began reciting the page: "Born December 1976. She was questioning her future...either going to be a dancer or a teacher... Lives in New York, left home at...sixteen. Wow." He looked at Jack, waiting for the same reaction from him. "The things they put in these files."_

_He eased back into the couch, as if this were just a casual dinner conversation. Not that those were held in their household._

_"Why are you telling me this?" Jack asked, hating the pained way his words came out. Pain was a definite sign of weakness to his father, and no doubt would part of this conversation be about how strong doctors had to be._

_Jack realized too late that this was about the patient on the table. He looked directly at his father though he dreaded seeing his face. Already Jack knew what would be written on it, the same verses that had been playing all his life. Like that old song said, second verse, same as the first. Disappointment. Betrayal. Anger. Even if the situation wasn't directly related to his father._

_"Because you need to know," Christian answered, sitting back up, "you need to know that this person had a good life. It was their time. Everyone has to go, Jack."_

_Out of all his talks with his father, Jack could never remember thinking he sounded so disbelieving, so selfish, so...unfair. It was like he was discovering a new part of his father's life, like a hidden journal about a world he wasn't allowed into. Jack suddenly felt more defensive than ever; he didn't care how weak it made him look._

_"She was only twenty, Dad," Jack argued, "she didn't even know what she was going to do with her life yet." He shook his head, part of not believing- or not wanting to believe- that he was saying. People shouldn't die until they've lived long, fulfilled lives. Until they're able to sit on their deathbed, and smile at their children because they knew they'd be okay. Not when they were twenty. Jack couldn't even wrap his mind around what dying at twenty would've been like for him._

_"Maybe that was for the best," Christian contemplated, sounding almost as though he were forcing himself to put emotion into his answer, "maybe her time ended before things...went wrong."_

_Blankly, Jack stared down at the floor, trying to remember the first time he saw the girl. She seemed terrified to be in a hospital, aside from shock from the wreck. Like she was living in a bad memory._

_"Or maybe it's the other way around," Jack suggested dully, briefly running a hand across the back of his neck, as he always did out of nerves or anxiety. "The fact is that she's not here now." He looked again at his father, planning to see his reaction the moment his next statement was over. "And whose fault is that?"_

_He asked the question solely out of curiosity. From the looks of it, Jack definitely caught his father off-guard, even ruined his perfectly planned conversation. Now he'd be forced to reconcile, because word spread quickly when people worked close, like in a hospital. Jack had forced the true position of 'caregiver' onto his father, and he almost smiled at his work. Instead he watched his father closely, interested in his response. Would he try to reach out to his son? Or would he just shrug and say 'That's how life goes'? Honestly, Jack was beginning to not know what to expect._

_"These things happen, Jack." Christian began slowly. Jack's heart fell, but he didn't show it. Any hope that his father would actually care how Jack felt was suddenly ripped from him and torn into frustrating shreds, thrown into piles hidden away from many other moments like this. Now, more than ever, Jack was disappointed in the answer, though it was his own game he started. Looking to the floor, Jack tried not to listen as his father went on. "But better things will happen."_

_Jack looked up, surprised. The conversation usually didn't go this far. And maybe it was just his imagination playing games, but he could've sworn his father actually looked and sounded...sincere._

_"And someday you'll run into a patient," Christian went on, eyes momentarily scanning the room before falling back to his son's, "and they'll be able to turn to their friend and say, 'this guy saved my life'." Jack wondered for a moment if he was talking from experience. Surprisingly, he found that his father's words did give him some hope...something he hardly ever received from a conversation with him. He was startled by the sympathy, and found himself listening on out of respect. "You're one of the best surgeons we have here, Jack; and that was a hard procedure. You did your best."_

_Jack stared at him for a long moment, searching for signs that Christian had been drinking. He knew exactly what to look for, but he couldn't find anything. Kindness was something so foreign from his father(at least spoken to Jack himself), that he was truly startled for a moment. Hope rekindled itself, and Jack found himself wondering if this could be the start of something good. _

_But just like always, Christian gave Jack a pat on the shoulder before standing up, just as if he caught himself with his walls down. Jack looked down, not wanting to look too desperate for sympathy. Though he ultimately turned it down, Jack knew that someday he'd need it. Someday, years from now, he'd be lying awake at night, just waiting for someone to tell him that everything was going to be okay. At least now he had something to fall back on._

_"I've got to go back," Christian announced, scooping up the files he'd early placed on his desk, "and you-" he pointed at Jack, "you should go home." Jack looked up at him, "and that's an order." _

_He offered Jack a weak smile, and Jack stood at the statement, feeling slightly mechanical. Out of habit Jack jiggled the car keys waiting for him in his pockets and tried to imagine himself at home sleeping. He couldn't. Already Jack could see himself flipping through cable channels until the early hours of the morning, when he'd have to go back in for another long day of work. Sighing, Jack threw open the office door, stepping into the hall to prepare to go home._

Eyes fluttering open, Jack blinked painfully at the sunlight that welcomed him back to the island. When he fell asleep, Jack recalled, it was dark out. How long had he been out? He looked around for someone to ask that question, and when he didn't see Kate right away, he panicked. Surely she hadn't left...from what he could remember, they had even somewhat gotten along earlier. Or was that Kate just showing off good bedside manner?

He spotted her then, sitting in the sand and staring out at sea. Looking almost content. For a moment Jack watched her, trying to hear what she was thinking. What was she so content about? Just the calming setting of the sea, or the fact that the man who was going to turn her in was dead? Maybe she was happy about her freedom. There was no one their to intimidate her, or threaten her, save Jack. And Jack shuddered when he thought of what she could be capable of, were she to feel that offense.

Though he didn't make a sound, Kate turned from where she sat, as if listening for his stirring. Jack just then noticed the tight piercing at his face, and feeling his sore cheek, he realized a bandaged had been placed there.

"You might be able to take that off now," Kate announced, standing up. She looked down to the ground uncertainly. "I thought it might be a safe idea."

Jack tried to thank her, but the pain was too much. It even surprised him a little. His jaw felt numb, though he couldn't remember it being kicked or anything, and when he tried to talk it was like he was in an ongoing battle with the muscles in his face. They'd tighten up a little before(what felt like), they'd expand and shoot out in a ripple, like a rubber band. So he settled with a weak nod. He noticed then that the back of Kate's neck was reddening like a tomato, and she must've noticed the same thing about him, because she asked:

"Want to move to the shade?"

At his nod of approval she helped him stand, and together they walked to where a single tree shaded only a few feet of sand. Like it was put their for him. For a moment, Jack wondered if it was, like one of those mirages cartoon characters were always seeing. Settling down, Kate handed Jack a bottle of water. He just stared at her. She didn't honestly expect him to be able to drink that, did she?

"You'll get dehydrated," she tempted, daring him with her eyes to turn her down.

Now she was starting to sound like himself, and Jack snorted a little. He took the water, closing his eyes to hold in the pain as he had to force the muscles in his cheeks and face to work. Holding the bottle out to Kate, he eyed her playfully as she reached out for it, and Jack pulled back like he was playing with a smile. Kate's lips turned up in a small smile, and Jack grinned a little as he really did give her the water back. It looked pathetic, he knew, but Jack hated that he had to sit there in silence. He wasn't even sure if he was entitled to play that kind of game after all he said about her, but he needed to do_ something_.

As they sat their in silence, Jack could practically hear Kate replaying the previous day. The way he yelled at her, called her a murderer. Technically, he was right: she killed the monster. But yet she said she was innocent. The fury in her eyes when she said that...the disappointment, the betrayel...Jack was almost glad when she walked away. It was too much to watch. That much emotion, he though, shouldn't be apart of someone who still had so much life ahead of them. As cheesy as it sounded, Jack truly believed it. He'd seen too many victims in his time working at the hospital, and he was sick of it.

But even Jack himself hadn't been granted the perfect life. Looking to the ground darkly, Jack realized this was the first true time he'd thought about his dad since they crashed. The drama had been non-stop since then, but now that they had a moment to rest, Jack couldn't take his mind off of it. He could still remember the unruly smell of the morgue, and how he wondered how someone could work there everyday. He'd walked past all the rooms, and upon seeing the number grow by the dozens of pull-out drawers of bodies, the sick realization came to him that he wasn't the only one- probably even in that hour- that would have to face such grief. Jack could still remember the brief feeling of hope that came as the man pulled open the drawer, thinking that it could all be a big mistake. After all, they wouldn't have you come identify the body if it was a sure thing, right? But then he'd seen his father's face, still with that look embroidered about him, like he was mad at the world. And Jack knew he'd given up. The tears came as his hope was brutally murdered, just like several of the residents to the morgue's dresser of bodies. Only once did he glance back at his father's body, and Jack saw that his expression seemed to change with Jack's identification of his death. Now he looked almost...peaceful. As if he planned for it to happen this way.

After that, after experiencing that pain, Jack knew that he'd never be the same around death again. Now that it was ever an easy thing for him to deal with. That was why, when Kate murdered the marshal, Jack was initially upset.

"I-" Kate's speaking up jerked him away from his thoughts, and Jack looked to her- almost too quickly- as she cleared her throat. "I just wanted to tell you that I didn't kill...the marshal-" she struggled with the name as though it haunted her. No doubt Kate knew the man's real name- Edward Mars- but she seemed unable to say it. Somehow, that made Jack want to listen to her just then, almost obsessively, like he needed to hear what she'd say for himself- for her- as much as she needed it. "- I didn't kill him because he was going to turn me in, or because he'd put me in prison without a second thought."

Jack watched as she looked into the ground, as if it were a safe-house. Whenever it grew too much for her, it was her cover. "I killed him because of something much...much worse than that. We have-" At that moment Kate looked away from the sand, her safe-house, and too the sea. Jack wondered why this particular thing, in that case, was easier for her to talk about. Maybe she was accepting whatever it was, after all these years, and was surprised to find how easy it came to her. Kate finally went on, but only for a short footnote. She swallowed, the pain in her voice told Jack that his theory was probably wrong. "A history."

Now she looked back down to the ground, as if ashamed of what she was saying. Jack didn't reply, not just because he physically couldn't, but because he was honestly taking the time to understand her then. Using his background of knowing of women with hard past, Jack tried to piece together something that made since. Had the marshal hurt her, or someone she knew? But the man was of service to the United States, he was supposed to protect his country. Unfortuently, anything was possible.

Suddenly she looked up at him, meeting his eyes. She searched them for a moment, before picking her words:

"I'm sorry."

Jack stared back at her, returning the search. She looked as if she were holding back, as if she were hoping something...but it didn't feel like she was awaiting for his forgiveness. Well, she was, but not truly...there was something deeper there, and Jack saw that right away. Her words were said so carefully, so surely, that Jack just knew that wasn't it. And the thought that Kate was putting on an act infuriated him. He just didn't _get_ her. What was she asking of him? She wanted his forgiveness, it seemed, but she didn't want to forgive herself. Or maybe she didn't think she should.

He opened his mouth, but Jack didn't expect to be able to say anything. But when he did, the most unpredictable thing came out of him, startling even himself into silence following:

"Are you?"

Kate stared at him, just like he had stared back at her. She watched him, as if expecting him to go back on his words. But he didn't. Though his voice came out struggled, rough sounding, as though he'd been sick or possibly drinking, his message was clear. Jack wanted to say something else, speak was he was thinking, that he really wasn't sure what to think, but he didn't. And he didn't know why. He just watched her, feeling like someone else as she stood, stalking off with the most hurt expression he'd ever seen anyone wear.

Looking to the ground, desperate to find Kate's safe-house, Jack kept it to himself that he was honestly sorry.

_It's coming on Christmas_

_They're cutting down trees_

_They're putting up reindeer_

_And singing songs of joy and peace_

_Oh I wish I had a river_

_I could skate away on_

Far away, Kate sat herself on the shore, legs crossed and fist clenched and anger. Why did this have to happen? She was almost...thrilled...at the knowledge of having this new kind of freedom, and the way that Jack stood out to her gave her hope she didn't even know she was allowed to have. Maybe she wasn't. Every time things seemed to lighten up, her past came back to haunt her. Why couldn't it just leave her alone?

_But it don't snow here_

_It stays pretty green_

_I'm going to make a lot of money_

_Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene_

_I wish I had a river_

_I could skate away on_

Jack didn't move from his spot in the shade. He wondered why he said what he did. In all his life, he could never remember being cold-hearted or unforgiving. Even with his father, Jack found himself forgiving what he'd say or did one way or another, if not just to please him. Maybe that's what he needed to do here. He couldn't survive here alone, and neither could Kate. And neither could leave.

_I wish I had a river so long_

_I would teach my feet to fly_

_Oh I wish I had a river_

_I could skate away on_

Trying to think this through, Jack found himself making excuses for Kate. Sure, she was a criminal, but the world wasn't black and white, right? When he called her a murderer, he wasn't just looking into the face of someone who wanted to defend themselves or prove you wrong. She was honestly and truly hurt. Like she'd been betrayed by her best friend. Now even Jack hated himself for it. Maybe, he thought, he could try again. A second chance. If she'd give it to him.

_I made my baby cry_

Sometimes she wondered what he was thinking. Did he regret what he said? Did he even care? Did Jack care that he was the best chance of anything new, anything better, that Kate ever had? She had hurt Tom, but Kate swore to herself that if she could have this, if Jack could forgive her, she'd never hurt him.

_He tried hard to help me_

_You know, he put me at ease_

_And he loved me so naughty_

_Made me weak in the knees_

_Oh I wish I had a river_

_I could skate away on_

His footsteps brushed against the sand like a gentle shift, putting his path behind him as he made her way to her. Kate could hear him, and at his presence she felt herself growing stiff. Her stomach knotted, and she was afraid to say anything in fear of blurting out the wrong thing. Luckily, he did the job for her.

"I was listening to you earlier," he announced, standing behind her.

The shadow of his tall figure sent cold shivers down her spine. It was almost embarrassing, the effect he was having on her. She felt like she was in high school, crushing over the football star who would carry her away to prom night. They'd be prom king and queen and live happily ever after.

But that could never happen here. All they had here was each other, and this desperate need to get along.

"The boar," Jack went on. Kate's heart fell. So this wasn't about her. Maybe he really didn't care.

_I'm so hard to handle_

_I'm selfish and I'm sad_

_Now I've gone and lost the best baby_

_That I ever had_

_Oh I wish I had a river_

_I could skate away on_

"The bodies are attracting them to the beach," Jack said, nodding to fuselage washed up on the sand. Kate found herself half-heartily listening, hoping at the most that that ounce of respect would mean something to him. "We should burn them."

She couldn't stop herself for turning to him. Flame was already burning in his eyes in a desperate glow, and Kate wondered if he really cared about the boar, or if he wanted to put the crash behind them.

"Jack," she began, voice giving a sad jolt as she heard his name come from her mouth like a forbidden word...one that you wanted to say anyway. "They're people."

_I wish I had a river so long_

_I would teach my feet to fly_

Jack's eyes searched hers, and she wondered what he was looking for with such an unimportant topic that had nothing to do with them. Ignoring her completely, Jack turned to the sea.

"We could have a signal fire up by sunset, or tomorrow night at the latest," Jack went on, sounding full of hope.

For the first time she felt sorry for him. Who knew what kind of life he'd left behind. Family could be waiting for him...parents, a wife. Maybe even kids. What was she thinking, feeling something towards him? Suddenly Kate felt ashamed of herself. Looking to the ground, she hoped he didn't notice. Maybe that was why he turned her away.

Or maybe that was the case, and he was feeling exactly what she was. And it was scaring the hell outta him.

_Oh I wish I had a river_

_I could skate away on_

_I made my baby say goodbye_

"I don't know why we're the only ones that survived that crash," Jack began. She looked up at him; this was a whole knew topic. Somehow, it gave her hope. "But we did, and we're not dead, Kate." He watched the ground nearby as he spoke, and she contemplated whether or not he planned this out or was making it up on the spot. He seemed like the kind of person who could be successful each way. "We don't know how long that signal fire will last, or if it will even work," he went on. She noticed his hope was being hidden. "But even if we're dead to the world, we're not dead here." The climax of his speech paced itself like the suspense of a box office movie. "We don't deserve that." He swallowed hard, and Kate found herself staring so deeply into him that it was making her feel lightheaded. "You don't deserve that. Until rescue comes, we still have to survive here, and we have to make something out of that. We're the only ones that survived that crash, and we shouldn't be living like this." He turned to her for the first time, and Kate could practically feel herself melting under his gaze. Hope burrowed deep inside her, the brown of his eyes radiating it too her in a surprisingly pleasing foreshadowing. "We should both get a second chance."

_It's coming on christmas_

_They're cutting down trees_

_They're putting up reindeer_

_And singing songs of joy and peace_

_I wish I had a river_

_I could skate away on_

She held his gaze for a full moment, basking in the joy of it. She would've smiled, but she didn't want to look desperate. So, holding her joy inside, Kate remained looking grave, though accepting. In her mind, she wondered what was acceptable to say. An 'okay', perhaps? Or maybe a 'thank you'. That sounded too corny...

Now that she had what she wanted, Kate didn't know what to do with it. And neither did Jack. As time grew on they just sat there, grateful for each other's company. Jack played with the bandage on his face, but didn't say anything. Kate didn't want to be somewhere else in particular, but she wished she had something to say. She hoped it'd get easier. Just the fact that Jack seemed just as unsure as she did eased herself a little, and in time they mutually acknowledged that, and just sat comfortably in their easy silence.

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for reviewing! Glad you like the story! Just to let you know, somethings will be out of order to the show...for example, something that happened at the end of season one could happen in one of the next few chapters of this story.

Thanks again!

Until next time...

October Sky


	6. Sinking, but Not Sunk

On An Island

Chapter Six

**Chapter Six:** Sinking, but Not Sunk

The sun spared them true heat, the ocean offering Jack a cool breeze for a day of recovery, though he didn't plan to spend it laying around. The dead fuselage taking up space behind where they were camped out by the shore was a horrific reminder of where they were and what was left behind; a haunting scene that seemed to mock every step they took. Kate had gone off nearby, insisting that the fresh fruit growing on the trees around the was healthier than the frozen food they had been eating. _Next she'd suggest hunting boar,_ Jack thought sarcastically.

Of course, she was vegetarian.

Grateful for the care she offered to his wound, cleaning it and never once complaining, Jack offered his company when she seemed to want it, though letting her wonder off without protest whenever she felt the need to get away. For the most part she hung around with him, though Jack figured she was offering sympathy because, though Jack hated to admit it, he was in too much pain to move around much. At first he almost enjoyed the break, for he'd been working hard the past few days- trying to save the Marshal and then digging his grave, searching for the signal, and still all through this the wound, permentatly etched into his back, aching in reminder of its excistance. Jack did, however, walk around a little, once finding Kate just standing at the water's edge, smiling with her socks and shoes nowhere in sight, letting her feet rest in pockets of wet sand, allowing a playful tide to swim over it. When he asked her what she was doing, she replied simply, "Sinking."

After promising he'd be fine, she left him to sort through some untouched suitcases, searching for everything from extra shoes to medical supplies. Most of the bags he'd come across had been expensive, for serious travelers, so Jack was startled when he came across a plastic-covered pink suitcase with cartoon characters on the cover. Sitting back in the sand, Jack stared at the bag a moment before finally bringing himself to open it, the sound of the zipper echoing in his mind like a long lost memory, one he'd hope to get rid of.

"Hey."

Jack closed his eyes as he nearly jumped back, leaping up at the sound of Kate's voice. Her smile faded and Kate crossed her arms, her eyebrows turning up at his nervous behavior.

"Look what I found," Jack said, reaching into his back pocket, trying to forget the suitcase that lay, waiting to be searched, on the sand.

Though he had tried to only look for supplies for the sake of saving time, Jack found himself picking out the oddest things to keep: a little boy's pilot's wings, a ticket for a concert someone had been to in Australia. Before he could help himself, Jack put himself in the place of a loved one of those people: what would they want to keep? Mentally he shook his head, taking out some kind of miniture spray bottle with a fan built into it. Before Kate could react, he pushed a button that activated it, squirting a light spray of water in her face as the fan blew the air around them, sending some of Kate's loose bangs flying wild.

"Real mature," Kate remarked bitterly, though with obvious tease. She grabbed for the toy, wrestling it out of his hand. "What is this thing?"

"I dunno," Jack shrugged, "figured it might come in handy in the heat."

Rolling her eyes, Kate examined the battery compartment.

"Until the batteries run out," Kate pointed out, voice falling a little, like a child who had a favorite toy taken away. Truthfully, every little thing like this they found brought hope, if not for rescue then, for survival. And hope was a dangerous thing to lose.

Regardless of this, Jack was able to pull off a smile, picking up a sack that he'd been filling from behind him.

"I thought about that," Jack admited, showing her the bag. "That's why I saved these."

Peering into the sack, Kate raised an eyebrow.

"Batteries?" She inquired uncertainly, turning her nose up at the bag, like an uncooperative teenager.

Jack grinned, as if he was keeping some dark secret. It was amazing the things that got them through the day: the jokes, the smiles. Though they hadn't been there for a week, the island was taking its toll on them, starting with their minor wounds and sunburns. The worst part, however(and Jack was sure he thought for both of them), was the mental stress. Even though they'd both been through the same trauma, neither would ever talk about it, bottling emotions and memories up inside and churning them into nightmares and sleepless nights. Mostly it was because it seemed insulting to feel so pained when there were so many who didn't make it, who didn't have a chance at feeling what they were feeling. Of survival. Once again Jack had to shake his mind away, determined to focus on his conversation with Kate.

"All of this for that?" Kate went on, playfully disgusted, "I'm flattered that you'd go through so much trouble, Jack, but I'd rather have some medicine in case, you know, one of us gets sick and _dies,_ than a sack full of fan batteries."

_Gets sick and dies... _Jack tried not to let the statement bother him too much. She was only being sarcastic, he knew, but it was still a terrifing truth. If the stress was bad enough with the two of them, Jack couldn't even wrap his mind around the concept of being stranded alone. Suddenly he was more grateful than ever that someone else was there.

"Actually," Jack said, feeling like someone who was teaching their kid the sentimental value of records or an old train set. "Different sizes-" he pulled out a couple to give Kate an example. He was sure he looked like a complete idiot, but honestly it didn't bother him. "I figured if we're going to be stuck here, we could be stuck here with some portable radios. Maybe a keyboard."

Kate let out a snort.

"Who carries that stuff on a plane?"

She offered Jack a smirk, slowly fading into a smile. Jack realized he must've looked insulted and blushed a little.

"So you play piano then?" Kate asked, sounding interested.

Cheeks turning even pinker, Jack nodded.

"A little," he confessed, failing to hide his embarrasment.

"Well, Elton," Kate replied, "before you set up for that party-" her voice lowered as she glanced around behind Jack, her whole demeanor suddenly turning sadder before becoming easily calm. Kate seemed to have that ability: anytime any type of feelings were threatening to be exposed, Kate could turn herself around with a smile or just a calm silence, as though everything were suddenly fine. And whether she knew it or not, Jack was learning to see through this. "Maybe we should get that signal up to get you home."

_To get you home..._ everythings she was saying seemed to stick to his mind that day, resting in uncomfortable beads of memory, like sweat. Surely Kate was only joking, wanting to grab his attention to get back to the task at hand, like a mother saying "Let's make you dinner" when it would really be for two. Even so, Jack felt the need to say:

"Yeah, to try and get _us_ home."

He watched her, maybe too closely, for a reaction. After her face melted with a change of heart, Kate swallowed quickly, wrapping her arms around herself tighter, though it was burning hot out.

"Yeah," she whispered quietly, suddenly not as keen on the subject.

Jack stayed put for a moment, hoping for insight that he knew he wouldn't get, while Kate was already on the ground, looking through the child's suitcase that Jack had neglected. He felt slightly betrayed that she was taking up his task of looking through that suitcase, but didn't say anything, as she was already, once again, lost in her own world.

(space)

Though being on the island was slightly boring, it was actually quite peaceful, with its silence and the looming breeze of the ocean to calm their thoughts, which was exactly what Jack needed as he worked on getting the fuselage ready to burn. He savored a few needful things: a chair or two from the airplane, the alcohol cart for medical purposes(though somehow he knew at some point it'd be used for otherwise), and most importantly, all the water they could find. It was almost taunting, being stranded around such a beautiful ocean full of water, when they weren't able to drink any of it.

So, lost in trying to lose himself in thoughts, as to not concentrate on the bodies around him, Jack didn't realize Kate wasn't with him until he heard a distant scream, sticking out to him like a cry from another world. Stopping, he looked around frantically, just able to spot a hand desperatly reaching over deep water before it was pulled under, the screams disapearing. In moments they reappeared again as Jack tore off towards the water, ditching his shirt and shoes on the sand. Diving under the tide, Jack was horrified to find Kate nowhere insight. He didn't even concider the possibility of it being a whole new survivor. Though he'd never heard Kate scream before, the sound somehow felt so familiar to him. It was almost as though he were hearing it _within_ him, a cry begging for his help. He didn't look back to see how far he was from shore, but Jack found himself swimming with surprsing grace, dodging waves as they crashed over him, at last spotting a shadow sinking under the surface. Kate. When he wrapped his arms around her she felt cold, and when he rose to the surface, she didn't gasp for breath as he did.

Jack was surprised at the ease he had in getting Kate back to shore. Her body weight was no burden, as she felt light as a feather. This time, however, the waves were more of an obstacle. Fighting for breath, Jack frequently glanced back towards Kate, each time failing in attempts to tell if she was consious. Honestly, he didn't need to see for himself that she wasn't. He couldn't feel her breath against him, and her body was swung over his shoulders in a dead weight. It was all he could to get back to sand, throwing himself onto shore and lowering Kate down with care. Pulling her wet hair from her face, Jack quickly began CPR, placing his lips on hers, giving her as much air as needed to bring her back into the breathing world.

After the third try, everything seemed to dissolve around him. Sound became inexistant, Jack became entrapped with the idea of saving Kate. He wasn't going to let her give up that easily. And at last she did breathe, gasping loudly, painfully, as she spat out water in large amounts that no one would intake normally. Turning over, she naturally fell against Jack's knee, and as he caught his own breath he subconsiously held her there, holding her head up with a hand.

(space)

Night fell too quickly for Kate's liking, engulfing the daylight and ripping time from their hands. It was odd, though: she couldn't remember much from the day. She remembered deciding to go for a swim, and she remembered Jack saving her. But that was all. She thought if she thought back hard enough, mentally attempting to place herself hours back with the sun, she could feel his worry, witness his attempts to save her. He didn't notice, but it was written all over Jack's face that he had been caught in a fury of worry and fear at seeing her in danger.

But now it was night, and Jack had promised to get the signal fire started as close to sundown as possible. Going around, making final precautions before setting the wreckage on fire, burning away the true exsistance of Flight 815, Jack hardly noticed Kate watching him, arms wrapped around a sweatshirt she was wearing. She watched as he double checked the main luggage areas, hoping to find as much help for survival as possible. She watched as he absent-mindly sidestepped the bodies that lay around him, waiting to be burned into their silent destiny. She watched as he finally stepped back from the fusealage, and watched as a trail of sweat swam down his forehead, preparing for the task at hand. For a single moment he looked dreadful, not in an ugly sense, but in a sense that he dreaded what he had to do. She watched him, and for a few seconds he stood there, closing his eyes before finally turning to her.

_"For five seconds I'd let the fear in."_

It seemed almost like a belief when he was telling her, something that so strongly helped him it became like a habit. She wondered if he still worshiped it. Before Kate had a chance to ponder any longer, he was facing her, offering her a grim smile.

"Let's do it."

Within minutes the fuselage was ablaze, burning and setting fire to the dead lives it held, hope officially dying there. It seemed cruel that they were using this burial ground for their own hope, when only one of them truly felt dedicated to it. She felt selfish, for Kate knew Jack must have worried family out there, people he himself missed desperatly; but she still couldn't help but to be concerned about herself. What was she going to do if they got rescued? Run again? But what would Jack think?

Why, though, did she care? It startled her so much that Kate nearly jumped when he approached her. He had an odd sense of emotion about him. He looked hopeful, yet that hope could've very well been masked. Jack did, however, look tired, to say the least, and he reaked of smoke and smelled of sweat.

"You probably want to clean up," Kate suggested quietly, finding it hard to speak properly, as though the flames themselves were holding her down. Punishing her.

Jack nodded, not bothering to deny the offer. Rubbing his hands against the hand towel he held, leaving thick stains of smoke and grease behind, Jack looked quickly to the burning wreckage, as though he had something he wanted to say to it. But he didn't speak, only threw the towel over his shoulder and turned to walk away.

"Oh," he said before he could get far, turning back towards her, "you might not want to stay long. The saltwater from eariler in your throat and the fumes-" he shrugged a little, traling off "just to be safe. Come and get me if you need me to watch over the fire."

Kate smiled grimly.

"You're the doctor," she replied, letting him again walk away.

A full moment set in before she felt completly alone, almost regretting letting Jack go. Flames danced in front of her in a quick waltz, moving to an unknown music Kate suddenly wished she could hear. _One two three, one two three..._

_The coffee tasted perfect on her lips. That's was the only way it could be described. At that moment she knew why people became so addicted to it, almost slaves to the beverage. And Kate could only pray that it would do its job in keeping her awake during her long ride ahead of her. Destination was no longer important. All that mattered was getting away._

_"More coffee, Hun?"_

_She hated being called 'hun'. _

_"No thanks," Kate replied with a smile. The waitress laid down her short check of a coffee and muffin in front of her, a sparkling blue pen dangling from a chain on top, anticipating this week's pay check. Kate would pay in cash._

_"That was a terrible story," the waitress commented. Margret was her name, according to the tag word across the breast pocket of her uniform, worn and faded from working hard years at a hated job. But whatever paid the bills... A blonde, Margret looked her age, but Kate personally didn't think that was an insult. It meant that she had worked hard at life to accomplish whatever was granted to her, and if her life was anything like Kate's, that wasn't much. Kate actually felt guilty for the first impression frustration at the title of 'hon'._

_Glancing at the paper that was in her hands, Kate prenteded to be reinvested at the front-page story. But it was one she already knew by heart: middle-aged husband and father blown to bits in his own home. House and land demolished. Daughter nowhere to be found. Mother not commenting. She'd been staring at that front page during her break from running, a much needed, much wanted, though much risked stop at a small town diner. Harmless. Yet it was a stop like this that could make or break a criminal's freedom. It could all end with one waiter's call to the police. Kate wouldn't of stopped if it hadn't been from the soreness that came from riding hours non-stop(though this had been fully predicted before she took off), and the fact that motorcycles wouldn't last forever, and right now Kate needed a backup plan. She hated to think of ditching her bike, for it did have its sentimental values. It'd been Tom's graduation present to her, given along with a dozen roses of congradulations and a kiss that, at the moment, guranteed Kate a lifetime friend that would always be there, always love her. Until he went off to medical school and got married, had kids. _

_Sarcasm aside, it was the bike that had become like an escape route, allowing a highway of possibilities ahead of her, giving some hope to her reccuring dreams of running away. And now that dream had come true. In its own violent way, the dream had come true._

_"And now they think the daughter was the one who did it," Margret shook her head as Kate tried not to psychically stiffen. So they had caught on. Now she had really risked it coming here, and all Kate could think of was the back exit that took the place of a booth behind her. And yes, she had planned for it to be that way. "It's a shame. I can't imagine my daughter ever doing that to me."_

_The only thing stopping Kate from slamming down the paper and running was the suspicion that would come after that. Instead she tightened her grip around the paper's edges, surely tearing tiny paper cuts into her fingertips. But if there was one thing Kate could deal with, it was pain. Offering no more, the waitress cleared her table, moving onto the next costumer, an entirely different being who lived an entirely different life. The man nearest to her, with short hair that barely came to his ears, a cleanshaven chin, and dark sunglasses, could've been a dedicated family man. He could've owned chains of buisnesses across the globe, or he could be heading to his own waitressing job. Or he could've been a fugitive, just like Kate herself. _

_But she stopped thinking about this immediatly as the waitress approached the man, offering him Kate's refill of coffee. Had the man been reading the same newspaper, he might've eve gotten the same story. Getting up, Kate hurried out of the diner, throwing her leg over her bike almost as soon as her feet hit the pavement. She'd gotten new shoes a week ago. Kate started the bike, never looking back as she sped away from the diner, as if fleeing from some horrific trauma. Sun rays burned into her neck, and as a hard breeze welcomed her once again to her dangerous and unpredictible journey to nowhere, Kate almost didn't regret not leaving a tip._

(space)

Flames danced at her heals, despite her blue jeans, which were supposed to protect her skin from the smoke and fumes. She found herself unable to stay at the burning wreckage, withering away like a dead flower or a dying animal. A slow and sad process. Wondering from the camp, Kate found herself following Jack's footsteps, which was none too easy with the sand's convinient layout of his path. It led her past a block of trees, giving her room to watch him from a safe distance, guarded by the tree's overgrown leaves. The vegetation on the island was something not too foriegn to Kate, as she had done a lot of travling in her days, but it was still a shock to see so much of it, to really be apart of it instead of running right past it.

And there he was. His own small fire blazing in front of him, Jack sat in the sand, staring distantly into the flames that offered some kind of mirror into a world only he could see. Clearly it was offering him memories of only dark and cruel times, for Jack's expression was so distant and lost that Kate felt like it was her duty to step forward, to interfere and stop it.

"Mind if I have a seat?" She asked as she walked up to him, her footsteps quietly scooping up and replacing sand as she walked.

Startled out of his rivere, Jack looked up at her, surprised. He didn't answer, and Kate assumed that wasn't a protest. She found herself soon expecting him to say something, excusing her presence as always. Like he was afraid of being alone with someone, of his thoughts being shared. And sure enough, he did speak up:

"Need me to watch the fire?" He offered.

Though the signal had only been blowing for a short time, it had reached a remarkable height. If no one spotted it, Kate would've had to question the island's supernatural demeanor. It certainly had one.

She shook her head no.

At her answer, Jack slipped back into his silence, ignoring her completly. Maybe he expected her to do the same, like a subsitute for sharing his thoughts or offering a conversation. They could just sit here, sharing the fire that was burning in front of them. Deep down, Kate had always found fire fascinating. It never burned out unless you wanted it to.

"I was thinking," she found herself saying, a smile playing on her lips, "you didn't really have to do CPR on me earlier."

This caught Jack's attention. He turned to her, interested, if not insulted; he was a doctor, after all.

"So why would I've if I didn't have to?" He asked her curiously, really wanting to know her answer.

Kate smiled into the fire, as if revealing a grand surprise or plan. She liked the way he didn't insult her suggestion, instead he played along with her humor. Of anytime, now especially they needed- and frankly, deserved- some comic relief.

"You just wanted to kiss me."

Jack stared at her for a long moment before his lips broke out into an incredulous grin. She caught him blushing for a split second, embarrased at the suggestion. But he quickly, and quite gracefully, recovered.

"If I wanted to kiss you," Jack began, amused, his dark appearance having disapeared, becoming another crackled spark. "I would."

Turning to him, Kate's smile twisted into something of interest, true curiousity. Over the past few days she honestly hadn't concidered Jack as someone she'd be romantically attracted to, as they were always wrapped up in some daze of memory or thought, always preoccupied. Never giving themselves the chance to really accept where they were, who they were with.

"Really?" She challenged. The idea that just around the corner death was burning, disaperating into a vicious pit of unfairness, irony, having escaped her. Finally. It wasn't as though, in her consious mind, she wanted to erase everything. To forget those who weren't so lucky, for what you could call lucky, would be insulting to their memory, adding to the unfair cruelty of it all.

All this time, Kate'd been fully anticipating Jack's answer. She didn't know what to expect, his expression kept changing. Would he kiss her then? Change everything in one vulnerable minute? But as his expression turned from embarrased, to interested, crossing into his own speck of wonder that was crossing through Kate's mind, all of this changed as his face fell altogether, tumbling into something of hurt. Covering himself up with a half-distracted look, like he was half-way between somewhere else and there, Jack stood up.

"I better go check on the fire," Jack announced as he got to his feet, leaving her with his fire.

She couldn't explain why he left so abruptly. She also couldn't explain why he didn't answer, why so much emotion swam through him at once then, while Kate surprised herself by remaining...content. She may have even kissed him then, had he made the move. But now the moment was over, the opportunity wasted, and Kate had no choice but to turn back to his fire, trying to find her place in it.

(space)

Jack didn't know why he ran. He'd left, but why did he have to run? His only solution was the fear of being caught, even slightly taken advantage of, in such a vulnerable moment. Now he felt like he had to regain some kind of control over himself, though he didn't know why that feeling led him to a pool of bushes that lined the entrance to the jungle, where he wasted no time in dumping his stomach contents of everything he'd eaten the past few days into the leaves, not daring to open his eyes as he caughed, choking on his own breath as he truly tried to calm himself. Hand clutching a tree for support, Jack only opened his eyes when he felt like he was able to breathe again, wiping his chin in exhaust.

Though there was no crack of a twig, no reason at all to do so, Jack suddenly jerked his head to the side, turning away from the jungle and towards the beach. He'd run right back to the firey fuselage, as though he'd memorized the path, knew it by heart like the steps of his house or a way to get to the kitchen in the dark; an innocent way of getting around that didn't seem to fit in with this troubling, traumatizing setting. But that didn't seem to offer an explaination to what he saw.

Standing over the wreckage, glaring at him with intense disapointment flaring through his firey eyes, was his father. His father who'd died almost week ago. Or rather, the ghost of his father. Because nothing us could explain why, in the blink of an eye, the figure that seemed so solid, so real, was suddenly gone.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	7. Haunted

On An Island

Chapter Six

**Author's Note:** For any Skaters who may be reading this, there's a note for you at the bottom about stealing a certain one of your scenes for this fic's use.

**Disclaimer:** No way am I trying to promote alcohol in this chapter. My personal opinon of it may never be the same of any character in any of my stories, and so I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't try this at home.

**Chapter Seven: **Haunted

It was sill early when Jack woke up, the sun hadn't even fully risen yet. A light shade of purple was painted across the horizon, lines of yellowing dancing through it like plaid sheets, wavy, fresh out of the dryer. Everything about the early hour was perfect, like walking into a stadium hours before the big game. One breath and fresh air could ease your lungs, the peaceful surrounding calming any worries or fears in sight. And because of this, Jack was little surprised to find Kate sitting by the ocean's shore, lounging in one of the chairs salvaged from the wreckage, letting her feet hover just about the incoming tide, water washing around it in cool splashes. She was smiling, he observed, her hair pulled back into a sweaty ponytail. A half-drunk bottle off water lay by her side, along with a pair of sneakers.

"Did you go for a run?" Jack asked curisouly as he approach.

Kate jumped a little at his voice, shoulders shaking as though he were just a voice in the wind.

"Yeah," she replied, "you should try it sometime."

Chuckling, Jack silently agreed to consider her proposal.

"I do," Jack said, "run, I mean. Tour de Stade."

"Nice accent," Kate smirked.

Jack shrugged it off with a simper. He settled down into the sand, wishing that he too had a chair to sit on. It wasn't that he hated the beach, but these jeans weren't going to last forever, and the sand became irritating after awhile. He could definetly see sense in Kate's change of heart.

"It's where you run all the levels of a stadium," Jack continued, "up and down."

"Wow," Kate commented, impressed. "I guess I shouldn't challenge you for a race then."

Jack grinned.

"I'm up for that," he said. Glancing towards Kate's bottle of water, Jack suddenly felt hungry. He didn't want to run out of the conversation so soon, but he had come here straight after waking up. Sleep still sat just inside his eye, tempting him to lay backdown and fall into a world of peaceful dreaming. Which wouldn't last long. Nightmares frequently haunted him, if not of the crash then of his father, taunting him like the vision of him he saw the night before. Feeling suddenly supersticious, Jack glanced behind him. Nothing was there except a burnt pile of wreckage that used to be the fusealage. A few flames still flickered, shedding an orange glow against the pale sand; later he decided to set fire to the circle again, just for some hope. "You should go, sometime."

"What?" Kate asked him, puzzled. "On a tour de, whatever?"

"Stade," Jack finished for her. He shrugged. "Unless, of course, you don't think you could finish."

Kate crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. Jack grinned, knowing he hit a nerve. She clearly didn't like to be challenged.

"I know I could finish," Kate protested warningly. She turned away, a mischevious grin picking at her lips. "I just don't want you to feel down when I outrun you."

"Right," Jack snorted, "you outrun me. And how many times have you run this thing?"

"We'll see," Kate said with a smile.

Jack grinned.

"It's a date, then."

The casual tone didn't mean for the comment to bring in such a heavy pause, taking them both into a silence as they considerd that there would never be a chance for that 'date' to happen. Even if they were to get off the island, there would be no hanging around for Kate.

"You want something to eat?" Jack asked a few moments later, swallowing to end the silence.

Kate smiled sadly, staring distantly into the waves rushing below her feet.

"Sure."

(space)

Knealed to the sand, Kate didn't notice Jack as he approached. He slowed his pace, frowning as he stopped to observe what she was doing. A lighter in her hand, Kate was crouched low to a suitcase, oblivous to the world around her. Carefully he approached her, though he disturbed her with his voice anyway:

"Hey."

The call made Kate jump, the lighter autimatically flicking off. Something sliped out of her hand, something small and plastic, like a credit card.

"What're you doing?" He asked, confused. Looking around, Jack placed his hands on his hips, puzzled.

Kate stood up slowly, hiding the object in her hands behind her back.

"Jack-" she began, keeping her face to the ground in a cowarding way.

Once again he had the unintentional feeling of being inferior to her, somehow her presence seeming smaller than before. It was as though she were cowarding, ashamed of whatever it was she had to hide.

Unexpectingly, even to Jack, he reached out, grabbing her arm roughly to reveal the object in her hand: a passport. Jerking away, Kate gasped as she tried to escaped her grip, but Jack only held onto her tighter.

"What're you doing?" He demanded, face contorted into anger. Anger because already, even though he had no answer, Jack knew she was betraying him again. Because when she did betray him, she had that same, small apperance, and that same cowarding look on her face. It wasn't judgment, it was like a compulsive behavior. A tick. "What the hell are you doing with this?"

"I-" Kate attempted, breaking off as she stared deeper into the ground, as if trying to burn a whole into it, planning yet another escape route.

Subconsiouly, Jack gripped her arm even tighter, hardly aware of doing so. Kate winced madly, flinching at the red dots that appeared underneath his fingers.

"If rescue comes-" Kate started immediatly, jumping into a frantic explination, "if the signal fire works...they're gonna take me in, Jack." She looked up to him them, her fearful eyes dancing around his. They were everything of hope and desperation, meeting his in one last attempt to gain his understanding. "They'll take me in, Jack."

He didn't know exactly why she repeated her statement, if only in attempts to steal his heart away with her desperation. But right away she didn't do that, only caused him to stare at her in wonder. She was smart, that was certain. And if she was smarter than he was, at least in this game, she could run over him like a lost puppy on the highway, a very little being in a very big, very hectic, world that he didn't understand.

Slowly, Jack let go of Kate's hand.

"Okay," he said, meet her eyes, now returning his former confusion.

"Okay?" She repeated uncertainly.

Jack nodded, eyeing the marks he'd made on her arm with guilt.

"If rescue comes, use that passport," Jack pointed to the fallen plastic sheet on the ground, "create a new identiy, get a new name. Whatever. I won't tell anyone."

She eyed him suspicously. He couldn't blame her for being unsure, not knowing where her trust lay just yet. They knew so little about each other that it was amazing they were still on a talking level. She'd excepted Jack's offer of a blank slate, but she couldn't really know why he did it. For her? For both of them? And yet, it seemed like all they could do was trust each other, because that was the only positive thing going for them at the moment.

"Seriously?" Kate finally asked.

Jack nodded again.

"Seriously."

Offering her a smile, sympathy escaped him; because he knew Kate was right. They'd take her, no matter what she or he said to convince them otherwise. They'd take her, and everything between them would be dead. For that split moment, Jack couldn't imagine not being on the island, not having Kate there. Any frame of rescue seemed impossible.

"Okay," Kate said, returning his smile quickly before looking to the ground again, hiding her gratefulness at his offer.

"Okay," Jack repeated, smiling a little again as he hoistened his backpack to his shoulder, turning to go, leaving Kate to further her escape route- a real one, this time.

(space)

"Fruit?" Kate asked Jack, tossing him a mango as he walked past her on the beach.

"Is it just me," Jack began, accepting the food, "or is all we do around here sit around and eat?"

Kate smiled.

"Someone's got to," she remarked. "Where're you headed?"

Jack's face widened into a smile of secrecy. Actually, he had come for her.

"I've got something to show you," he replied mischeviously.

Walking on, Jack assumed Kate would follow him out of suspicion, and she did, chasing after him through dunes of sand. Curiosity did get the better of her, as he had planned, and soon Kate began interrogating him, curiosity soon turning into irritability. It was almost amusing.

"Where are we going?" Kate demanded for the third time. "Jack-"

"You're not a very patient person, are you?" Jack mused, a smile still peeking out of his lips.

"Why won't you just tell me?" Kate insisted, fighting to keep up with his quick-pace. Finally she fell into step with him, though her frustration was still visible. "You're not one of those guys who secretly plans romantic dinners, are you?" Jack didn't answer her. He decided to let her keep guessing, though by now he was beginning to fear that she'd be disapointed. _Maybe this was a bad idea..._ "The candles and the moonlight thing? Come on, Jack, that stuff is so cheesy."

When he continued to fall silent, Kate looked worried. Face hardening with seriousness, Kate cleared her throat.

"I mean, if that is it, then that's great!" She said, attempting to redeem herself. Jack just kept quiet, now considering the consequences of his surprise. Before he himself had been surprised, too taken aback to be worried. But now, what was going through his mind was, did they have enough food? Water? Would the sun be too hot for this to work? "I mean, they're not so bad. Free food's free food, right?"

As they grew closer, Jack found that his mind was clearing up. It was the excitment of finding the perfect gift for someone, and then worrying while they were opening it that it wasn't good enough; but then came the smile across their face, the deilght in the present. Or, at least, fake delight. Jack frowned, reconsidering again. He almost stopped to think, but kept going, almost feeling like it was against his will.

"But, I mean, if it's from the heart," Kate babbled on, "that's really sweet, but I think we need to talk about this. It's a big move, you know..."

"Sh!" Jack interrupted, whispering and holding a finger to his lips.

Kate stopped, puzzled.

"But, you know," Kate went on quietly, "if that's not it..."

Suddenly Jack stopped, holding a hand to silence her. They were aproaching a band of trees that sat by the jungle, marking the entrance into the mysterious forest. A single tree stood out amongst the others, making perfect room for Jack to tie to it a panting, sweaty, yellow-white Retriever. The dog looked comfortable enough in the sun, but Jack was still worried about keeping the animal out on the beach, where the temperatures could go well into the nineties on an average day, were one to be directly in the sun. Luckily, he guessed, the season was turning into the fall.

"A dog," Kate finally breathed, pulling a strand of hair behind an ear in emabarrasment.

Jack made an effort to smile.

"Not a romantic dinner," he teased, "but at least when we need food, we won't have to go chasing down a boar now."

He smirked, knowing that'd pinch a nerve.

"Jack!" Kate exclaimed.

And sure enough...

Jack grinned, just to spite her.

"You're not really going to kill it, are you?" Kate demanded, voice pleading with worry.

Knealing down, she scratched the dog behind its ears, all signs showing that she was pleased with the pet. Jack felt a wave of worry leave him. He didn't know why he had been so worked up over this...it was a dog, not an engagment ring or first date.

"No," Jack assured her with pleasure, "he would make a good sandwhich though."

"You're discusting," Kate scrowled, holding the dog close. In a child-like voice Jack never guess Kate posessed, she said to the animal: "I'll protect you from that mean jerk."

"I'm a jerk now?" Jack pouted lightly.

Examining the rope that had the dog was tied to, Kate considered her answer.

"How would you like it if someone tied you to a tree and threatened to make you into a sandwhich?" Kate challenged.

"You got me," Jack offered. "Can we stop with the insults?"

Kate ignored him, continuing to scratch the dog behind the ears as she examined it, as though it brought some kind of comfort to her. That had been one of the reasons Jack considered taking the dog in in the first place: it was like a third party, someone to keep them company besides each other. Someone to go to for comfort, were they to fight. Of course, he imagined that would probably put the mut in the middle of some very sticky arguments.

"What's his name?" Kate asked, interrupting Jack's thoughts.

The question surprised him; he hadn't concidered it. The dog seemed well-trained enough, it followed and obey Jack without protest. But that was what he remained: "The Dog".

"I dunno," Jack shrugged, "Sparky?"

"How original," Kate snorted, sratching the dog's fur thoughtfully. He wondered if maybe Kate had some kind of dog- or any kind of pet, for that matter. She seemed so comfortable with him, so put at ease. "How about Vincent?"

"Vincent?" Jack repeated, blinking.

It seemed so...plain-like. After all, it was a person's name.

"I had a fish named Vincent once," Kate explained, reminincing with a smile.

Jack snorted. Truthfully, he didn't care what they named the dog. It seemed odd, already, to think that it belonged to them. Their dog. And to think that its true owner could be laying in the burnt rubble nearby made him feel sick. Jack swallowed.

"You're naming him after a fish?" He inquired with forced amusment.

"Vincent it is, then," Kate announced with a smile, continuing to scratch the dog- Vincent's- fur with joy.

Smiling a little, Jack looked away out of habit, eyes falling on a single figure standing in the shallow tide that was sweeping the beach, ignoring the waters that rushed beneath him, surely splashing against the black suit he was wearing. But the man didn't seem to be bothered, which, Jack thought, was odd. His father would've had the cause of his newest suit getting ruined taken in for questioning. Jack blinked.

Just like that, his father was gone. Like the night before.

"Jack?" Kate asked, worried.

Snapping back into reality, Jack forced a smile, and replied, more to himself than to her:

"Vincent it is."

(space)

The day seemed to go by quickly, hours passing like the incoming waves and leaving clouds. Settling by the shore, this time taking one of the chairs along, Jack spent ours throwing a tennis ball he found to the dog. It seemed like the highlight of Vincent's week, getting to catch the ball and race it back to him, all the while with Jack absently playing along, letting his feet rest in the tide his father stood just hours ago.

"Hey," Kate greeted. She had a black duffel thrown over her shoulders, the bulk of it appearing to be a burden to her light bodyweight.

"What's this?" He asked curiously, keeping the saliva-coated tennis ball in his hands when Vincent brought it back to him next.

"Not fan batteries," Kate smirked, rolling her eyes as she relieved herself of the bag's weight, setting it down. "This," she went on, "is from the liqur cart."

"I thought we were saving that," Jack reminded, frowning.

Rubbing his chin against Jack's hand, Vincent wrestled the ball out of his palms, letting it fall to the ground. He looked down at it pitifully, and Jack half-heartly picked it up and threw it out down the sand further than before.

"Don't worry," Kate said teasingly, "there's still enough left for whatever huge accident you're planning."

"I'm just saying-" Jack attempted.

"Come on, Jack," Kate said in that light agitated way she had, letting him know that she was annoyed, but still being playful about it. She let the contents of the back roll onto the ground. Mixes of different kinds of alcohol and even a few bottles of beer felt into the sand. It was funny, used to when he thought of drinks and an island, he thought of rum and coconut juice. "It's, what, five, ten each?" She smiled. "It's not like we're gonna drink it all in one go."

Jack eyed the alcohol with distaste. Because of his father's abuse of the drink, Jack tended to stay away from it. Except for special occasions. Somehow, though, now just didn't feel like the time. Ahead darker clouds rolled in, turning the sky colors of soft red and purple, signaling the change into night. He sighed, looking around subconsiouly. Every now and then he'd get the feeling that someone was following him or watching him.

"I don't drink," Jack tried. Kate was already seating another chair next to him. She had her heart set on this, having a drink with him, for some reason. "Health stuff...runs in my family. Risks, you know?"

He stopped immediatly, looking down. Kate offered him a sympathetic smile. Jack caught it out of the corner of his eye.

"Alcoholism runs in my family too," she said quietly, reassuringly. Jack looked up at her, a mixture of interest and even an unexplainable hope dancing in his eyes.

Chosing not to reply, his eyes deverted to the ground, landing on the bag of alcohol ready, waiting, at his feet. At last he sighed.

"Fine," he agreed relucantly, "but only a few-" he waved his finger at her teasingly, "I know my limits."

"I'm sure you do," Kate said, smiling over a plastic cup she was mixing a drink in.

As she finished fixing the drink she relaxed into her seat, like one would on a hot summer's day, nursing a lemonade as they lay in a hammock. But they'd never have either of those here. Jack was surprised to find how fast his mind was moving as he fixed his own drink, everything from the first time his dad came home drunk(which actually rarely happened, though it was obvious when he'd had a drink or two), to his mother warning him about the risks of alcohol, as if he didn't know already. Across from his Kate took her first sip of the drinking, closing her eyes as though it were a taste of heaven. Bringing the cup away from her lips, Kate looked around their camp thoughtfully.

"We deserve this," she said confidently.

Jack nodded.

"We do," he agreed.

He brought the cup to his lips, a smaller one than Kate had(subconsiouly chosen), and took his first sip of the drink as well. Jack winced. Sour and warm, the liquid probably wasn't of its best quality, but already Jack could've sworn he was feeling its affects. Mind easing a little, Jack finally let himself relax into the moment.

"How about a game?" Jack offered, a hint of a mischivous tone playing in his voice.

Kate smiled wickedly.

"Now who's the life of the party?" She teased. Jack wondered, at that moment, if perhaps Kate already had something to drink, even before aproaching him. Maybe she just wanted company. "What's the game?"

Jack studied his glass thoughtfully. He'd actually only been to a few parties in his lifetime, but he remembered one in partiuclar that almost went too far with a game they'd chose to play. It wasn't one built off of naming states or anything like that, but of personal experience and questions. The reason the party almost went too far is because the game had become a little _too_ personal, but the game itself may have been just what he and Kate needed, for the sake of getting to know each other better. As long as they attempted to control how deep the game dove.

"I never," Jack replied proudly. Kate raised an eyebrow, and Jack offered an explination. "It's simple. I ask you if you've ever done something, and if you have, you drink."

Kate snorted.

"That's ridduclous," she remarked.

Jack shrugged, breaking into a small smile.

"Just a way to get to know each other better," he said, "but, if you don't want to know more about me-"

"Okay!" Kate exclaimed, maybe a little too loudly, too desperatly. He'd knew that'd get her...he suspected if there was one thing he'd secretly discovered about her was that she liked to know who she was dealing with. She liked to know how much hope was in this person, letting herself figure out for herself if this person was good or not, worth putting her hope into. Kate never came out directly with this, but it was obvious; in her eyes, in the concern of her voice, her uncertainty. Not that she didn't have a genuine care about her, she did. But she was certainly curious, even if she didn't always show it. Who, in this situation, wouldn't be? "Care to start?"

"Sure," Jack said, sitting up in the seat, "for example, I've never had long hair."

Kate laughed at him.

"Not even in the seventies?" She inquired.

"It was never i_that_/i long," Jack insisted. "And so now you drink, because you have long hair."

Jack grinned at her, and Kate rolled her eyes.

"That was pathetic," she snorted, taking a sip of her drink.

"You go, then," Jack retorted.

"Okay..." Kate began thoughtfully, finguring the cup in her hands hungrily. "I've never been to college."

Jack stared at her.

"Come on," there was that teasing voice again, "you're a doctor!"

"Exactly," Jack said, pointing at her, "med school."

"But there had to of been pre-requisinted classes," Kate attempted desperatly.

"But most of it was med school," Jack said again, putting more effort into his argument.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"That makes no sense," she claimed, but took a drink anyway. Looking at him over the tip of her glass, Kate eyed him darkly. "That was low."

"That's the game," Jack said happily. He was surprised to realize that he was enjoying himself. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea afterall. "My turn. I've never stolen a car."

Kate rolled her eyes again, taking yet another sip of her drink. It was time for her to pour another. As she mixed the next cup, Jack watched. Even though he was winning to the game, a tingling feeling in his taste buds yearned to tase the alcohol, for its effects eased his confused, and frankly, traumatized, mind. But he didn't really want to help himself that way. That was his father's way of doing things.

"I've never had a job," Kate announced proudly, lips firm in confidence at her try.

Raising an eyebrow, Jack paused before he took a drink. The cup in his hands suddenly felt like it weighed a ton, mocking him for his hesitance.

"You've never had a job?" Jack repeated, stunned.

"Not a real one," Kate grinned mischeviously, "not a legal one."

He couldn't help but to laugh a little, deciding not to doubt her. She was on the run, he reminded himself, and much younger than he was. If she had been running for awhile, or possibly since childhood, a runaway from the get-go, there was a good possibility that Kate had never had a real- or legal- job. Jack took a long sip of his drink for good measure, appearing to compliment her smart statement, while really fulfilling his own needs. On his defense, his throat was terribly dry, if only from his lack of sleep. Besides the normal nightmares of the crash, failing to save the marshal, and his father, new nightmares of his father had risen in his first attempt to sleep last night, leaving him wide awake and frequently glancing around, fearful. He hated to admit it, but that's how he felt: afraid. But then again, he was seeing images of his dead father, who could blame him?

Nevertheless, ultimatly, that's why he took the drink.

"I've never left someone," Jack said next, proud to find that the truth. Of course, he had never been in many serious relationships- or hardly any kind of relationships, for that matter. His friend was digital cable, or an ever-so-often visit or call from his only friend left from his childhood, and teenage, years. His 'friends' would only be considering co-workers, people who would sometimes offer him an invite to lunch, mostly from pity. Especially during the last two months. But, to his shock and surprise, most despised him for what he did to his father, down to his own mother. But, in relation to his personal declarance in the game, he hadn't left his father. He hadn't pushed him away. He'd only done what was right. Or so he thought. For weeks on out he would sit up at night, wondering if it had all been worth it. In the end, he would decide against himself, apointing himself the goodguy in the situation, and roll over to try and go to sleep.

"I've never been left," Kate responded quickly.

His idea backfired on himself. Slighty shaken by the quick response and its truth, Jack's hands trembled as he lifted the cup to his mouth, taking another long sip, drowning the glass. Kate quickly reached to refill it, doing the deed of mixing another drink for him. He nodded a thanks, mind darkned with ideas of things to say, on a more personal level now. Kate didn't question his response, but she was clearly curious. Or maybe she wasn't surprised at all.

"I've never lost somebody something they loved," Jack began quietly, finding it hard to continue. His voice cracked a little in pain as he went on, tone darkening signfically, as was the sky and world around them. It was officially night now, and soon it would be cool. They'd need to build a fire. "And felt so ridiciously guilty about it, even though they loved that thing more than you."

Long and hard he had thought about the question, not wanting an answer from Kate so much as relieving himself the burden of the guilt he spoke of. Confession was good for the soul, they said, but honestly, Jack had never truly had someone he trust to confess to. All he had was a good friend or two, and he didn't want to lose them to sympathy or pity. He didn't know why he said this to Kate, for she was that one good friend here- if they could be considered friends- and who knew when they'd see another human being again. _If all fails, _Jack thought miserably, _I could always talk to the dog. _Maybe that's why Kate had given Vincent a human name; because it would've been so less embarrasing to be baring your soul to someone named 'Vincent' than to someone named 'Sparky'. That was one argument Jack was pleased Kate won.

A long moment passing between them, Jack didn't even look up for Kate's reply. He took the drink for himself, letting himself lose his own game. Feeling Kate's eyes watching him, he knew she was studying him carefully, observing him as he downed half the glass with the single comment, her response becoming long forgotten. The pause lasted longer than Jack had intended, but he didn't know how to pick himself back up. Only then did it occur to him that his 'I never' actually applied to him, and from the look of it, Kate picked up on that. And she decided to follow his lead, freeing him of his silence.

"I've never been hit by someone I cared about," she said quietly, almost in a whisper, voice horribly uneven and eyes never leaving Jack.

But she wasn't staring at him now, it was more like she was staring through him. Jack hardly noticed. He drank anyways. He was losing now, he knew, but he no longer cared. The dark effects of the drink were wearing in, and for the first time in his life, he understood why his father drank. Not his father's personal reason, but the ultimate reason: sometimes it just became too much. But still, as a kid Jack never understood why a simple 'C' on a history test or a burnt chocolate pie would send his father over the limit, or why he'd come home from an obvious night of drinking for no apparent reason whatsoever. For years Jack thought maybe it was him, or something he didn't know about his father's past. But then he decided: it was for nothing. That had to be it. What reason in the world could leave his father wanting to absolutly free himself of his mind, to be controled by something that wasn't himself, something he'd have no control over either. Nonstop, all the time. Jack stared down at his glass, contemplating his next response. He wanted it to be something good, something revealing, yet not too revealing. Something that would make her wonder, make her understand him as much as she wanted to be understood by he.

All awhile, Kate watched him, and out of the corner of his eye Jack was subconsiouly aware. He did, at last, catch a real glimpse of her stare, one so darkened, so determined, that Jack understood immediatly what was happening. She was playing him. Dishing out information about him, just like he knew she did. But this time, she had taken his own game and so easily taken control of it, manipulating it into her own sport and using it against him. She was trying to sort out his darkest secrest, to detect if they could compare at all to her own, if his level of pain could ever match her own. If he could ever really understand her. Because it'd be she who would decide that, in the end. She was taking note of his experience, what caused him to apeared troubled, haunted. The emotions he so careful hid while around her, mostly for her benifit, so she would feel safe, knowing that at least one of them were in the right place of mind, had control. But he also did it for himself, because as long as he didn't completly lose it, there's was always hope of recovery, that it would just pass by, like a threatening storm simply easing by. But, alas, she had found these emotions, discovered them inside him tonight. And, like a broken record, he was as far from the right place of mind as one could get. There was no doubt in his mind, upon this realization, that she could've been lying the whole time. Maybe she had made his own mistake with her last offering, confusing the rules with the drug-like beverage that was settling in her mind.

Maybe the whole reason for his- or their- mistake had been subconsious denial. "I never". They both had pleanty of things, he was sure, that they wished they'd never done or experience. And denying it like this, making it part of the game, gave hope for it seeming that less real. Another backfired plan. It'd never seemed more realer to Jack.

He remembered, somehow, that it was his turn. Only half-aware that he had even opened his mouth, Jack couldn't stop himself for saying the one thing he'd kept down inside him, buried within a brick wall of self-pity and, even sometimes, unacceptance. Because the day he admited it would be the day that he'd given up, the day his entire world had give up on him. He wasn't sure if this was that day; he wasn't sure much of anything. But that still didn't stop him. Opening his mouth, Jack let the reply fall out of his mouth like a ball of confession; he could practically see it collasping into the ground. Blue. Sparkling. That would be the hope in it, finally escaping him. But then eventually it would crash to the ground, fail him. Luckily, in regards to everything it stood for, that would be no real personal blow.

"I've never been loved," Jack whispered, the words swirling out of him in a whirl of confession. The blue ball dropped to the ground, and Jack stared at the sand, where he half-expected to see it laying there. Hell, he was already losing his mind on this island.

Kate stared at him, breath wavering and escaping her unevenly, as much in shock of his statement as he was of the peace that went with it. Yet he still didn't feel completly relieved. He was still expecting the worst to happen, the worst to come out of this. Because what he said was true. Besides never actually really hearing the words said to him, everyone who claimed to have loved him eventually left him, leaving him to clean up what would eventually feel like his own failure: Sarah, his dad. Anyone. Everyone. The sympathy, the pity, it could never match hearing those three words, and not necessarily from a romantic point of view.

Clearly Kate wasn't sure how to respond. That much was for certain. Not pushing her, Jack half-hoped the game was over. He half-hoped she'd walk off, that he'd fall asleep, that he'd realize all his life had been a dream...that what he said didn't have to be true. But part of him hoped the exact oposite. That she'd stay. Consider what he said. And not just so she'd say those words to him. But because she'd be the one person who would stay. All his life he'd have one or two good friends that he was terryfied of losing, and though he felt that same fear here, there was a struggling hope within him wanting to prove himself wrong. Wanting Kate to prove himself wrong.

Yeah, the drink was definetly wearing in now. Jack blinked, closing his eyes hard before reopening them to the game. Whatever Kate had decided, she too had seen that the game should probably wind down now. The party where he'd been taught the game had ended on no level close to this. That had been admiting to friends and friends of friends that you secretly despised a family member, wanted nothing more than to be away from there. This was telling his, deepest, darkest, most hated secret to a near-stranger. It was odd, it had felt like he'd been on the island for more than close to a week, but he still felt like he had a lot to learn about Kate, and vice versa. It wasn't the old, "I feel like I've known you forever" tale. No, it was, maybe I want to know you. I shouldn't, considering the fugitive thing, but I do. And when the rare mood of darkness, such as this one, sank in, taking over every sensible cell in his brain, he knew that was true for her too. It was risky buisness, but they couldn't help but to have an eye sat on the money.

"One more for the road?" Kate offered, traces of heavy sympathy mixing in with foul breath from the drink and the effects it would leave.

Jack nodded. After a confession like that, knowing that he may have to live with knowing she knew that deepest thought forever...he wanted something to help him clear his mind. And yet he hated himself for that.

"I've never been married."

The whispered response came in a way that Jack somehow knew she was definetly lying here. He still took the drink, finishing off the glass with a final downing. Across from him, Kate took the drink as well. He didn't mention that she, like him, wasn't playing by the rules. Again, the denial thing. He let her take the drink, both of them shifting their way into silence. Behind him, Jack heard a twig snapped and jerked his head around. Assuming it was the dog, he was surprised with fear when Vincent was no where insight. Even more frightening was, once again, the imagine of his father watching him, staring at him, i_glaring_/i at him. Ashamed of him.

Never did it register in his mind that this, especially, could be an effect of the alcohol. Not until later did he wonder if, in a condition like this, his father had a simular experience. Maybe with his own father. Jack knew little about his grandfather, but he had been a theory of his for his father's abuse of alcohol. Jumping to his feet without thought, Jack tore towards the jungle, determined to catch his father's image of this time. Of anything, to prove him wrong. To prove that he himself wouldn't turn into his father, to beg him to look deeper into his son, to see the truth. To love him.

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews!

**Coming up next, on "On An Island":**

A lot of "White Rabbit" stuff happens.

Thanks again!

Until next time...

October Sky


	8. In Wonderland

On An Island

Chapter Eight

**Author's Note:** There are probably more direct referances to the show in this chaper than there will ever be, and for that reason I had mixed feelings about this. I don't want to make this a direct copy of the show, but some of this stuff I felt really fit, and I hope that you will enjoy seeing it in here.

**Chapter Eight:** In Wonderland

Jack tore through the jungle, knocking away branches as they jumped in front of him, leaping over the smallest of obstacles on the ground. He thought he heard someone calling after him, but he didn't stop to find out. Paths twisted and turned without notice, darkness consuming him as he rushed forward, feet pounding in a steady rythm that seemed to keep him sane. As sane as possible, that was. As he ran on his thoughts became one, mind jumbling into one confused picture.

"Dad!" The call escaped from him without warning, desperatly echoing through the trees though, in his mind, his voice didn't travel far at all.

Still he ran, the night around him gradually becoming oblivious to his consious mind. He ran down and up hills, not knowing nor paying attention to where he was going. A voice behind him rang in the back of his mind until he had finally been able to put himself at a safe distance away from the caller.

"Dad!" Jack yelled again, screaming desperatly at the top of his lungs, listening hard in hopes of hearing a response. It never hit him that the person calling from behind could've been his father. Sudden exhaustion swept over him, results, he was sure, from lack of peaceful sleep and the alcohol. Skidding to a stop, Jack rested with his hands on his knees for only a split second before continuing to shout. He wanted to be heard. A strange sense of hope came over him; Jack knew his father was there.

"Where are you?" He shouted into the night.

Nothing answered. He was about to ask the question again, demanding for an answer, when the sight of a clearing just ahead caught him off-guard. Besides going out for the cockpit, they had yet to travel most of the jungle, its mysteries still unbeknowest to them. It was only then that Jack remembered their own island monster, those horrific sounds they heard on some of their first nights there. Blinking, Jack took in the wide clearing as he stepped into it, moving through mist bouncing off the moonlight, highlighting his way. He looked around, silence suddenly coming over him, as though this were some secret tunnel and not just a clearing. And that's when he saw it.

Slowly coming into view was some kind of room. Confused, breathing hard, and silently terrified, Jack crept closer to the image. Particles, pixels, like a computer drawing, made up the room, a wooden desk and chairs becoming noticable. Suddenly Jack stopped. He knew this room. He knew it better than any other room, though it wasn't from the best of circumstances. But one thing he didn't understand was, why was it here? How was it here?

(space)

_One ring. Two. Three. Jack almost hung up the phone, frustrated with his betrayed hope of getting an answer, when a woman picked up. There was a pause where Jack was sure the woman was hesitating responding, stopped by the number on the caller I.D._

_"Hello?" Came an answer, at last. Like the pause, the voice was hesitant, and Jack knew for good reason. He spent a moment just taking in the voice he hadn't heard in a lifetime, one that he used to know so well. Maybe it was just because of her caller, but the voice seemed taken aback by memory, a world she had once left behind coming to mind at the name and number on her phone. "Jack?"_

_Taking a deep breath, Jack let his voice flow out of him. _

_"Hey."_

_Jack winced at his voice. He sounded like a nervous teenager about to ask out a crush. That was far from what he was doing._

_"Jack," said the woman again, taking the fact that she was talking to this person she hadn't seen in so long, someone who became another fragment of time altogether. "How are you?"_

_The question stopped him. How was he supposed to answer that? Before he made the call, Jack had spent days, and in his mind, weeks, years, contemplating the call; making notes, taking account of things that should be said, mentioned. But now he wasn't sure. If he opened his mouth, Jack was sure that everything would come out in one saying. And the last thing he wanted to do was scare her away._

_"I'm fine," Jack said at last, speaking slowly and carefully, determined to not get ahead of himself, "I'm fine, Julia."_

_In his mind, he could see her smile at his words. He knew she'd be smiling. No matter how long, the reason they were now so far apart in the first place, she had always been happy to hear those words from him. 'I'm fine'. It was like Christmas morning to her. He'd never really understood that, but he did know that she was smart, and as much as the statement pleased her, she could read him like a book._

_And he knew what she'd say next, just from the pause following his response._

_"How's your father?"_

_She sounded very unsure of herself, as though she didn't know if she wanted to ask the question. If she didn't want the answer. Jack swallowed; he'd been prepared for this._

_"I need you to talk to him," Jack answered, a little more faster than he would've liked. He held his breath, waiting for a response. Nothing but stunned silence came through the line. "Julia, pleae..."_

_Another pause, and then finally an answer:_

_"You know I can't, Jack," Julia said regretfully, her voice sad and sympathetic._

_"You're the only one he'll listen to!" Jack pointed out, desperate. Leaning over the counter, Jack held his head in a hand in attempts to keep himself calm. He didn't want to scare her away. "You're the only one he ever talked to."_

_"And you know why?" Julia snapped, angry of the memory that was forced back to her._

_Suddenly Jack felt guilty for calling. They hadn't kept in touch in years, the closest thing being a card of congradulations when he and Sarah had gotten married, along with a framed picture of a Pacific beach and sunset and a hand-knitted pillow, which Sarah had taken with her. Just to spite him, he thought. But within that time, who knew what kind of life Julia had built away from them. She'd moved thousands of miles away, though he didn't know to where. He didn't know if she was married or had kids, if she'd been able to start her life over. And here he was, calling up out of the blue, wanting her help. It was almost selfish, actually._

_"Please," Jack tried again, voice cracking a little. It was a habit of his he hated, how he'd apear to get choked up over the smallest of things. But, according to a professional opinion, that was natural considering everything he'd been through. Not to mention that this wasn't just a small, random thing. In fact, it wasn't random at all. It was just another part of the troubled life he lived, years and years of dealing with the same hardships. And it didn't seem to be getting any better, or easier. "He's in really bad shape."_

_Another pause. Jack bit his lip, waiting for an answer._

_"How's Sarah?" Julia wanted to know, changing the subject completly._

_It'd been Jack's decision not to tell her about the divorce. It seemed too risky, mentioning such a personal thing to someone he really wasn't supposed to be in communication with. He would've ended up secretly begging for advice, or anything that would've gotten him through that time of his life, when he knew that could possibly get him into trouble. But now the time seemed right, especially when he had already confessed about needing her help._

_"She left me," Jack admited, the same embarrasment coming to him as with everytime he spoke those words. A few times he'd actually been laughed at for not being strong enough to deal with the situation, to fix it._

_This time, there was no pause._

_"I'm sorry. Jack," Julia said breathlessly, truthfully. "What happened?_

_Jack's hand fell to the counter top in frustration. The fish in the tank nearby hurried to the glass to see what was going on. When no other abrupt sound came, the fish sank back to the bottom of the tank, where it liked to hide out behind a toy treasure chest. Sometimes he wondered if the fish was afraid of him. What with the way he'd come in sometimes, angry, cursing, slamming doors and throwing things about, the sea creature probably had reason to be._

_"Can you help him?" Jack said, ignoring her question. Truthfully, he didn't want to get into that subject. Once again, too risky. He didn't want to get used to the idea of this person coming back into his life when it could crumble under his feet any moment. Swallowing again, Jack chose, selfishly, to attempt to use her empathy against her. "Can you help me?"_

_She didn't answer him, at first. After a few long moments, listening to a buzz resulting from the long distant connection, Jack was sure that she'd hung up on him without him realizing it. But really he was listening too carefully for that, waiting for a response and, preferably, the one he wanted to hear._

_"Okay," she finally agreed, a hint of uncertainty draining out an attempt of confidence. Deep down, though, Jack guessed that somewhere within her, she wanted to do this. She wanted to come back into their lives, no matter the trouble they'd cause her before. "Are you still in California?"_

_Jack nodded, though she couldn't see him. He was relieved beyond belief, even remembering to feed the fish early; a few regretful times he'd forget to feed him altogether. _

_"Yeah," he confirmed, "still in the same place. He is, I mean."_

_"Sounds like him," Julia commented. Again he could see the smile, a pleasant memory coming back to her. _

_"When can you get here?" Jack asked, putting away the fish food. _

_"Maybe in a day?" Julia guessed. "Two?"_

_His mouth felt dry. Really he wanted her there as soon as possible. Despite every reason he had to go to her for help before, Jack couldn't remember a time wanting her help this much. But he knew she probably had no choice, probably still wanted to get used to the idea of hearing from him, coming back. And he was still worried about scaring her away._

_"That'd be great," Jack said at last, voicing his relief at her offer. At the positive response, Jack suddenly wished the conversation could go on longer. Suddenly he had years of things he wanted to tell her, and he wanted to hear from her as well, if only for relief that she was doing well now. "So, how are things?"_

_"Actually, Jack," Julia began quickly, hardly giving thought to his question, "I really should be going."_

_He tried not to let himself feel disapointed. After all, while he'd been planning this call for days, it'd come to her in a matter of seconds. It'd be a lot to take in._

_"Okay," Jack said, "see you soon, then."_

_A relucant pause announced her regret at the abrupt good-bye, and Julia was quick to redeem herself._

_"Okay," she agreed, then took a short breath, "and Jack?" He didn't respond. "Take care of yourself, okay? Don't worry...I'll be there."_

_For the first part, the sentence mimicked exactly her original parting words, and it wasn't until she finished that Jack was reassured he'd ever hear from her again. She wasn't the one to break promises, and she wasn't the one to let someone down. Even after she moved away, even under the circumstances that sent her away, there was still an obvious guilt and regret she had with leaving._

_"Thanks," Jack managed to say before she hung up._

_Listening to the sound of the dial tone, Jack recalled in his head their conversation, assuring himself that she would, indeed, come. If she didn't come, if she couldn't help, Jack wasn't sure what more there was to do, with things only getting worse, and never easier._

(space)

_"I don't want to talk to him!"_

_"Dr. Shephard," Julia's desperate voice said, "you have to-"_

_"Don't tell me what I have to do!" Christian Shephard yelled, his voice bellowing through the office's shut door, offering Jack a clear way into the conversation._

_Jack's heart jumped a little at his words, though his father's loud voice should be something he was used to. He winced at what was being said, hurt flowing through him without restraint. _

_"He's your son!" Julia went on, clearly disaproving the way his father was acting. Honestly, Jack was flattered, surprised that she was going to such lengths to try and get his father to talk to him. Surprisingly, some of the staff had actually turned against Jack at his decision, for Christian was one of their best surgeons, while others wanted nothing to do with the man whatsover. A slight few were repteivly sympathetic. Jack went through each day concentrating on its end, when he'd get to change, go home, and go from there. He learned to let his mind go whenever possible, block out everything he didn't want to hear out. "He had his reasons!"_

_"I know what his reasons were!" Christian insisted, growling at the accusation. Jack closed his eyes. Whatever his father thought was his reason, it most likely wasn't._

_"I was your therapist for fifteen years, Christian! Your friend!" The woman frantically tried. Boxes slammed as the conversation went on, each time growing louder and louder, as did at that moment. His father was being forced out of his office, due to getting his liscense taken away. Because of him. Because of his son. Jack was almost grateful to hear the conversation grow quiet; maybe his father could see her reason. He really did just want to talk to him, make him explain why he did what he did. Be forgiven. "Just hear him out."_

_Holding his breath, Jack waited for his father's reply. One never came. He'd been leaning too close to the door, practically sprawled against it, so that when it opened, his father's ex-therapist ran right into him, Jack stumbling back a little. Quickly, he recovered. Sympathetic eyes met his as he straightened up. _

_"I'm sorry," Julia, offered. She'd been quite close to the family, becoming empathetic towards his father's drinking habits and the abuse that came with it. She had helped Jack on more occasions than necessary, being more of a parent to him than either of his probably ever could of, at least in his childhood._

_Jack didn't want to accept that. He didn't want to leave without hearing what he came to hear. Despite her words, despite her failure, Jack pushed past her, attempting to get through the door. A hand stopped him, holding onto his shoulder soothingly. Jack looked first at the hand, then at Julia._

_"Give him time," Julia suggested gently._

_Jack met her eyes, mirroring back to him ages of friendship, of his desperate need for someone to be there for him, to care about, be proud, his achievments and triumphs, comfort him when he failed. Care about him, in general._

_"All I've given him is time," Jack said with cold emotion, unwilling to negotiate or argue further._

_With that, he pushed open the door. It didn't creak, didn't make a sound, and his father didn't look up. Didn't notice his entrance at all. The blinds were closed over the window, the room unlit in a darken tint, making it look cold and unwelcoming, which perfectly suited the room's purpose, personality, and resident. Jack raised a hand to the wall beside him. He hesitated, leaving it to hoaver there, watching his father pack away his things: trophies, certificates, awards. No photos of the family. No homely items: a signed baseball or framed picture. Just the room's familiar disregard towards life outside work. _

_At last Jack knocked._

_Dread ran through him as he waited for an answer. Still his father packed, ignoring him altogether. He didn't look up, didn't flinch at the noise. Made no sign whatsover that he was aware his son was there. But Jack knew that was a lie. He waited a moment longer, considering clearing his throat. But he was frozen there, unable to do nothing but watch his father pack his things, ready to move out of the office, out of his son's life. _

_Jack had no choice. He left. And the worse thing was, that was exactly what his father wanted him to do._

(space)

And the image was gone. Just like that. And in its place, was his father. Standing gravely, no pun intended, considering Christian's current state of living. Which was none. Jack felt himself being pushed forward, egged on by everything he had been feeling, everything that was left unsaid between he and his father. Everything he had never had the guts to bring up, to discuss. And, as Jack had learned throughout his search for his father, pride. Pride because, so far, he had survived this island. He was a survivor of a plane crash and, essentially, Jack was fighting the trauma. He was moving on, slowly but steadily, and he was still alive. He'd been successful. He was able to take care of himself, and he had managed to build a relationship with Kate, despite their differances.

And if he didn't do this, if Jack couldn't find his father, express everything to him, he knew that all of this would fall under his feet. He couldn't fail this time.

So when the figure of his father suddenly appeared at the other side of the clearing, Jack dove for his opportunity. Literally. As Jack reached out for him, his father's body disapeared, disaperating into the still and humid night. Jack was sent falling, tumbling down a hill, so in shock that he couldn't scream, couldn't react. Skin ripped and tore, breath leaving him with each roll, his head pounding in hurt beyond belief. The alcohol was contuing to make things vague, unreal, but each time Jack watched the ground roll beneath him, everything seemed so much more real for that moment.

Soon there was no more ground under him. Without warning he flew off of what must've been a cliff, grabbing onto a long, thick, branch(what really looked more like a fallen tree, though relativly skinny in size). It hung out across the air, leaving him hanging, hoavering over a roaring river below his feet.

Gasping, Jack faught to catch his breath, his mind still rolling with the fall. The world seemed to spin around him, and Jack desperatly gripped his arms around the branch to insure its hold. Who knew how long it last. Below him the river roared loudly, maybe twenty, thirty, feet from where his shoes dangled, laces untangled. He'd lose a shoe any moment, but that was the least of his wories.

With no choice but to watch the river flow before him, for the first time Jack called for help. He wanted to call for his father again, beg for his help, his assurance, but his eyes were already blinking away tears of reality. His father had been a simple image, a mirage. A figure of his imagination. Somewhere within this island, his father was dead. And Jack was about to join him.

No one answered his calls. Arms slipping, Jack tried a few more times, shouting desperatly for Kate's help. No one answered him. He forced himself to wait a few full minutes before allowing himself to relax. He knew what he had to do. It was the only way. Even if he tried to made his way across the branch, back to land, there was no guarante it would hold. The wood would break, and if Jack had no warning, he coudld die just from the shock of falling. He had no choice but to fall on his own.

In his head, he tried to calm himself, tell himself that he'd be okay. This wasn't the end. He closed his eyes, arms still trying to grasp hold of the branch. He was losing grip, and fast. Gradually his entire body relaxed, and, keeping his eyes closed, he let himself fall.

The last thing he remembered was hitting cold water, oxygen stolen away from him as he lost consious, drifting into darkness, welcoming himself into his father's current world.

(space)

It was cold. And wet. Jack clamped is already-shut eyes down tightly, blinking himself into a consious world. Why was he wet? When the sunlight of a bright morning first greeted him, Jack was sure he was at the beach, and like any other morning at the beach, he picked himself off the ground, sitting up.

He wasn't on the beach. That much he learned quickly. Trying to sit up only left him tredding deep water, panic sweeping through him, his head spinning with ache and confusion. He was in a river. Looking side to side, Jack could put a safe fifteen feet between him and the shore. His limbs were numb; he couldn't feel a thing. The icey water made him shiver, and as he attempted to balance himself again to a floating position on his back, just so he could catch his breath, Jack found himself wondering if the river should be this cold in September. He tried to do the geography in his head, figure out seasonal differances and how the weather should affect them in his head, but that only brought on more confusion to an already pounding headache.

At first he coudln't remember what happened. The last time he remembered feeling this confused was waking up in the jungle, never really considering why he was there for some time before taking in the idea of being in a plane crash. Now the same thing was happening again. Water whirled around him as Jack slowly floated further down the river, sending non-stop shivers up his spine as he tried to recall the night before.

He'd found Vincent, that he remembered. What happened next? Kate showed him the alcohol. Now Jack understood the headache. Before they knew it they were swept away by Jack's drinking game, Jack being the one to admit more secrets than originally intended. And he groaned in both embarassment and regret when he remembered what those secrets were.

Forcing himself not to be too hard on himself, Jack attempted to concentrate on figuring out how he'd get out of the river, which side he sould climb out of. He could remember, vaguely, falling from the left side of a cliff, but everytime he attempted to move to escaping the freezing water, Jack found himself frozen to the bone, unable to move a muscle. All he could do was sit there and try to relax, to not panic. Try to tell himself he'd make it out of this, just like he had done before dropping into the river in the first place.

Only a few feet had he floated after regaining consious(how long had he been out?), Jack noticed a change in the scenery. At first he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, but everything looked so real.

Just like the image of his father.

The world seemed brighter, seemed to shine with a glittery shimmer, bouncing off unbelievably bright sunrays. Dots of sparkle danced in his eyes as Jack examined the scenery to his side: trees greener than he'd ever seen them before, the whole forest passing like a picture, the perfect home away from home. Had Jack not been floating down on a river on a deserted island following a plane crash and the death of his father, he might've considered the place as paridise. But that was only to fool you. After all, they said to never judge a book by its cover.

At last feeling came back, first to his legs and then to his arms which, he noticed, were scratched to the bone. In his head he remembered falling, dizzyness sweeping over as he once again felt himself tumbling down the hill to the point of hanging from a branch, looking down at a dangerous fall into the waters below. Determined to get out of the river, Jack pushed the memory aside as he flipped over, taking a few gulps of water before swimming to shore. His mouth felt extremly dry, empty, containing nothing but the memory of alcohol.

Climbing to shore, collasping to the ground immediatly in exhaustion, Jack hated himself more than ever for chasing after his father, for once again letting himself be fooled by his presence. His manor had been none but calming, disapointed even, but still Jack had let himself to believe that wouldn't matter. He could talk to him, making him understand. But running into an unfamiliar jungle at night, following an image of his dead father? It only proved his stupidity; it was probably what his father would've wanted anway, just to see if Jack would come after him, like always. Because, deep down, Jack had led himself to believe that his father would come to accept him, fully, and understand why Jack felt the way he did toward him. But, once again, his father had let him down, hurt him even more.

But if he was seeing things, Jack couldn't understand how there was a horse aproaching him, seeming unafraid of the sudden new being in its habit. He froze at the site of the animal, letting it get only inches away from him, terrified to move. Horses didn't belong on islands in the middle of nowhere. Just as he was about to cautiously reach up, see if the animal was real, the horse turned so swiftly that Jack startled himself into stumbling backwards, left to watch, confused, as the horse galloped back into the trees.

Despite the confusion of seeing the horse, Jack still felt the desperate need to sit still for a few moments, to try and put his mind at ease so that he could(hopefully) find his way back. Once again he found himself gazing around at the scenery, water dripping from his cold, drenched, clothes and onto the pebbled surface. Now that he wasn't trapped in it, the river looked peacefully calm, floating by in front of him like clouds in a relieving, and relativly uneventful, dream. He was cold but he ignored it, and he was sure he had injuries that he should be tending to, but Jack found himself too entranced by the scenery to think of doing so. For once he didn't think about his father, or wonder if he'd still be here the next day. Flashbacks to the crash didn't haunt him, and neither did the burning fusealage. The only image that he allowed in his mind was the river flowing in front of him, and the shimmering trees and atmosphere surrounding it. In this frame of mind, there had been no embarassing drinking game, no desperate search through the jungle, no tumble down a hill, no fall from a cliff. Just peace, calmness.

Nevertheless, he only let himself rest for a few minutes. In the back of his mind, Jack could still hear someone calling for him, and now he understood that person must've been Kate. His greatest fear was that she'd come after him, possibly getting herself lost and hurt, maybe even more than he. Having no clue where he was within the island, Jack knew he had to start out while it was still early, if he had any hopes of finding both Kate and his way back to camp. With pain, Jack lifted himself off the ground, staggering back into the jungle. Every bit of him felt sore, making it hard to continue on. He really wanted to stop. Badly. But somehow Jack kept moving forward, part of him wondering if he'd see the image of his father again.

And a relucant, insecure part of him wanted to.

With difficulty, Jack stumbled through the jungle, moving at a much slower pace than the night before. He tried savoring the memory of the river's scenery, keeping that peace of mind, but as he drew further and further away from it, reality seemed to hit him like a light from another world. His stomach grumbled in protest at the trek, but he was determined not to stop. There was food at camp.

Some miles from the river Jack finally had to stop, resting his hands on his knees as he looked around, much like when he found the clearing with the image- mirage, it might've been- of his father's office. What the hell was going on? The idea of none of the images being real scared the hell outta him, though he didn't know what he would've thought had they been there. After all, his dead father and his office didn't belong on some island in the middle of no where. The world was seeming to move around him, without him, and Jack could only stand in the middle, lost.

(space)

She wasn't as good of a trakker as she rememered being. Even as a child, Kate could remember being able to hunt down boar and deers with ease. But Jack was different. Jack seemed to have no one path in mind as traces of his footsteps fled through the jungle, uneven and staggering. After he had disapeared into the trees and the darkness beyond them, Kate found herself unable to just sit and wait for him to decide to come back. She'd run after him, and though they should've only been seconds apart, Kate lost him in no time. But she hadn't given up, searching for him throughout the night and into the jungle, keeping track of where she was going and how far from camp she was. She was sure that wherever Jack was, he wasn't keeping up with his destination, wherever that might've been.

A rustling in the trees stopped her. Her eyes captured the bushes in one hold, anxiously waiting for whomever it was to come out. She hadn't considered someone else being stranded on the island, and the thought actually terrified her. That meant that person, as well, hadn't been found.

But what came forward wasn't a person. It was an animal. A horse. Kate stood perfectly still, breath escaping her in terrified gasps. What the hell was a horse doing here? And better yet, a familiar looking one. Of course, some horses did look alike, but she could've sworn she'd seen it before. It was when she was with the Marshal, wrecking his car and knocking him out in order to free herself. The horse had stopped them in the middle of nowhere, coming up suddenly from the side of the road, almost like a warning. A sign. And now it was here. But not for long. Just as she acknowledged its presence it ran off, like it had never been there to begin with.

Somehow, it still seemed like a sign. But not a bad one. Somehow, Kate had a feeling that she was going in the right direction. Maybe the horse hadn't been a bad sign back then, either. She didn't want to think of it. In the long run, that good sign had led her to getting caught. To here. And why the hell would anything want to lead her here?

(space)

He contemplated going on. He'd stood there for so long that, for a moment, Jack had forgotten where he was going and in what direction. A horse. Falling from a cliff. His dead father being there. Nothing was making sense, and Jack felt like he had to stand there until it did.

A noise protested this theory. It was a ringing. The ringing of a phone, like when you called someone. Immediatly following it was a jiggling of a glass, the ice in it hitting its sides, like he had heard so many times in his life. Like last night, when he'd drank from that same type of cup, save the ice inside. The sound jarred him from his trance, sending him racing towards it. He followed the sound to a slight opening in the trees, stopping there to look around. It was like the sound was giving him directional advice, helping him. Only one of those sounds had ever done him any good. One sometimes practically saving his life, one ruining it.

Deciding to investigate the opening, Jack crept towards it, carefully taking note of the parting of the trees there. As he went on, Jack discovered that there was reason for that. It was a path. A path to the opening of a cave. A real cave. Jack could only stare inside before stepping in, wondering if this was just another one of his mirages. But as he stepped onto the hard ground of the cave's surface, hearing the sound of its waterfall before seeing it, Jack was convinced it was real. It felt amazing, walking through it, like he was looking into a self-accepting future, something he could really look forward to. A few openings marked exsistance of more private caves, but the waterfall interested him the most. Flowing openly, it took up its own corner, a small lagoon swimming below it. At that moment, the waterfall looked just as welcoming as the scenery of the river- when he wasn't stuck in it, of course. He was so excited by the thought of fresh water, of shelter, that he tore from the caves in search of Kate, though he knew it'd be blind luck if he found her.

Surprsingly, it wasn't hard. Emerging from the path to the caves, Jack ran straight into Kate, sending her tumbling back in shock.

"Jack!" She gasped, catching herself before she fell. Her expression spoke nothing but relief, startled gratefulness for her surprsing find.

As he briefly watched her taking in his presence, Jack could understand her shock. Arms cut up, still hard of breathing, and most of all, soaking wet, Jack didn't look like the typical person you'd find walking through the jungle. Then again, what did typical person walking through a jungle look like?"

"You've gotta see this," Jack panted, excitment roaring through him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Kate demanded, ignoring him, eyes wondered over him worried, afraid.

Jack ignored her as well. Grabbing her hand, Jack pulled Kate towards the cave, giving her no choice but to follow him. He was sure that she protested all the way, but again he blocked her out, too excited to fight back. He pulled her all the way inside, at which point he didn't have to force her to follow. Face glowing with anticipation, Jack looked at her for a reaction. It mirrored his before exactly. Her eyes wondered around the caves, startled, but excited as well.

"What is this place?" Kate asked, her voice echoing gracefully through the cave walls. Jack felt like he'd never heard a more beautiful sound. All of this brought one thing: hope. Just the fact that they were standing there in a cave with fresh water, hearing their voices echo back to them, just knowing they were no longer restricted to the beach. Already they had options, already they had somewhere to go, somewhere to run to.

"I dunno," Jack replied, still gazing around at the place like it was the eigth wonder of the world. For all he knew, it was.

"Jack-" Kate suddenly began next to him, eyes widening in a glow Jack had yet to see in them.

She was looking hungrily at the waterfall. Back at the beach they had enough water to last them weeks, maybe more, but already it had gone sour and warm with the sun's burning affect on them. This water, however, was cool, refreshing. Welcoming. So welcoming, in fact, that Kate literally dragged Jack towards it, leaping into the mini waterfall before he could ask what she was doing. Standing happily in the small lagoon, Kate laughed as the water ran over them, now understanding Jack's excitment. He couldn't help but to smile, amused at her sudden change. It was like it was Christmas, and he had gotten her exactly what she wanted. They stood there, facing each other, taking in the newly found surroundings. The relief of the cool water flowing over them(though Jack was already drenched, still occasionally shivering) silenced the moment, letting them take in the gratefulness between them. Kate looked up to him in wonder, thanking him with her eyes, and for a moment an awkward tension passed by, breaking the once much needed moment of relief. Eyes changing in one moment, drastically bouncing with the fact that they were standing so close, water rolling off of them, inviting them to take the moment a step further, practically begging for it, Kate stopped. The place seemed to have its own power, becoming more than just a cave on an island. Like they said, never judge a book by its cover.

"You probably want to change," Kate noted quietly, shying herself out of their joined trance. Stepping out of the pool, she looked around, observing the wreckage within the caves that Jack hadn't noticed before. Already she had picked out a suitcase to go through, able to quickly pull out a dry shirt. She turned to him, smiling. "Wouldn't you know?"

(space)

Now that he wasn't desperatly running through it, the jungle out here seemed very calming, almost welcoming. Not frightening at all. It was hard to believe that moments ago, in this same place, he was chasing some kind of vision of his father, and that in this same place, some kind of monster-sounding creature made it's apperance a few days ago, even eating the pilot of their crashed plane. As he changed shirts, grateful for the dry clothes, Jack took in the scenery. It was the feeling one had at seeing their new house, the home they'd be living here years to come. The thought of living on the island for years to come shook his nerves, but the more signs of civilization they found, the more hope they had that this place wasn't totally deserted or uncharted.

Suddenly something cracked beneath his feet. He was standing on top of something. Knees immediatly locking in protest of moving, Jack looked down, tensing at seeing dozens of bees flying around at his feet. He was standing on a bee hive. _Bee hives aren't supposed to be on the ground. _Jack thought nervously to himself. His knees unbuckled, shaking uncontrolably. He wasn't afraid of bees, but he prefered to not have them flying around his feet, trapping him with only two options: stand there shaking, or suffer, possibly deadly, bee stings. Jack didn't want to know what kind of bees lived in the ground of a South Pacific island, unless that was a part of geography or biology class he slept through.

"Kate?" He called, desperation leaking through his voice. The hive had to be covered or else he had no chance. "Kate!"

His second call was complete desperation, and Kate came running on cue. She stopped when she saw the situation. Eyes trailing to Jack, she met his in a moment of worry before he began barking desperate instructions.

"I need you to get something to cover the hive," Jack instructed. She just stood still, staring at the bees on the ground. "Kate!"

She looked up at him, but at that same moment, Jack's knees decided to give out, sending a leg crashing into the hive, breaking it free of its boundaries, sending bees piercing at his shins and ankles, painful vibes shooting up his legs as Jack struggled to get away. All around them the bees flew, stinging at his sides and arms as he tore his shirt off, attempting to shoo them away, while also getting rid of the bees that had landed between his chest and the fabric of the shirt. Kate was doing the same, he saw, and he found himself surprised at the fact that they weren't screaming their heads off. As they finally reached the caves, Jack decided it was shock, for his brain was left in dizzyness and pain once they were under shelter, losing track of the bees.

"Are they gone?" Kate wondered outloud, panting obviously as she looked around the caves.

Jack waved one last bee off his shirt.

"I think so."

(space)

"Oww!" Kate complained, wincing as Jack pulled his finger away from the medicine he was placing on a bee sting of hers, dug into the skin of her upper back, just below her shoulder.

"There's a reason they call them bee stings," Jack commented with sarcastic sympathy. Kate smirked. "All done."

With a sigh of relief, Kate stood, obviously in pain. Jack was wincing with every move himself, having his own share of stings, if not more. She eyed him with concern as she slipped back on her shirt, slightly embarrased by the amount of skin she was showing. Jack didn't seem embarrased at all, but her cheeks shined with pink when she caught him gazing at her, some kind of goofy smile on his face. She tried to hide her embarrasment with a smirk of confussion, quickly putting back on her shirt as she confronted him:

"Would you stop looking at me like that?" Kate exclaimed, amused now. Jack snapped out of his riveri, whatever it contained. Personally, Kate didn't want to know.

"Like what?" He retorted blankly.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"Take a picture," she remarked, however cheesy the quote was, "it'll last longer."

Jack smiled sheeplishly, his cheeks redder than hers as he put his shirt back on as well, wincing in pain as he did. She noticed some scratches that dotted his arms, remembering his abrupt return, soaking wet and shivering- not only from excitement, but clearly from the cold. She was about to ask what happened when Jackinterrupted her with a grin.

"Well if you would stop coming on to me..." Jack began, grinning to himself, as if proud of being able to come out with the accusation.

Kate raised an eyebrow in amusment. He was becoming brave, she noticed, especially in the way he talked to her, like he was becoming more comfortable with their situation. She wished she could stay the same, but truthfully, Kate had always been very gentle with her trust and who she put it with. On the outside, Jack seemed like a decent enough person, but once you got to know someone, things tended to change. The drinking game told her that much. She wasn't sure what to think of Jack's continous personal accusations and confessions, deeper than she'd ever seen anyone go(as far as confessions went) while under the influence of alcohol. And they hadn't even drunk that much.

Realizing Jack was watching her for an answer, Kate snapped out of her thoughts.

"'Coming on to you?'" She repeated, amused at his wording. "How?"

"I dunno," Jack shrugged, his smug grin still plastered over his face. "First you put me in a very awkward position about a dinner and a kiss, then you get me drunk, and now..."

"I'm asking you to play strip poker?" Kate snorted, incredulous. "You're making things up in your head, Jack."

She was expecting another quick comeback, but the accusation made him stop. Immediatly he became more serious, ending their banter. Leaving him to it, Kate chose to give him his space, leaving him to begin refilling water bottles. But discovery brought her back in no time.

"Have you looked around this place?" She asked him, coming in from another part of the caves where there had been tons of wreckage dropped off- from their plane. "There's a coffin back here."

That sparked Jack's attention. He seemed to freeze up at the mention. Kate's eyebrows furrowed as he immediatly crossed into the other room. She followed him, tracing his steps as he headed straight for the coffin. Kate stood beside him, eyeing him as he stared down at it. She couldn't read the hard emotion in his eyes, the determination that laid hidden within, all coming out now. Resting his hands on the coffin, Jack breathed slowly as he closed his eyes, taking it all in. She watched him, confused and interested, considering all she didn't know about this man. Hell, she didn't even know why he was in Australia in the first place.

Without warning, Jack thrust open the coffin, staggering back as soon as the lid was thrown off.

The coffin was empty.

Suddenly Jack's breathing grew very rapid, his arms shaking with his uneven breath. In concern she watched him as he ran a hand frantically over his head, began shaking a little in his arms, paniced all together. She didn't understand, but it was clear that some kind of comfort was necessary.

"I'm sure the person was just buying the coffin," she assured, watching him with both sympathy and confusion. The only reason plausible that Jack would be this concerned about the coffin was if it belonged to him- along with the body that was supposed to be inside it. In her mind she went back, trying to find evidence of emotional pain that could've come from a loss, some kind of sign she should've seen. If there was something she should've caught. Two moments came to mind: the night of the fusealage burning and, of course, last night's drinking game. She'd wondered about him then, but hadn't really known what to think. "Or maybe a body bag fell out."

Jack looked sick at the suggestion. She contemplated putting a hand on his back for support, but she didn't know what overstepping her boundaries would be. After all, if he really thought she was coming on to him...

"I'm gonna go," Jack said, having trouble getting his words out. He swallowed. Kate frowned when she saw that he was blinking away tears. She wished he would just come out with it...how was she supposed to know how to reach out to him if she didn't know what she was reaching out to. "I think I sprained my ankle."

Despite his excuse, Jack was quickly able to get away from the caves. She watched him go, face contorted with concern. Who could he have lossed? The options were endless. Looking back at the empty coffin, stories of its purpose flew to her head, finally forcing her to close it back, putting an end to her mind's suggestions.

(space)

The night seemed darker than usual, fitting in perfectly with the state she found Jack in. Drastically drawn away from the present, Kate found him sitting by a fire, staring intensly into it, just like the night of the fusealage burning. She aproached him with caution, wondering if he'd mind her company. They hadn't spoken since the finding of the caves. She still didn't know where he had been or what happened to him. He was now completly dry, of course, but there was still a level of exhaustion within him; he looked like he could fall asleep just staring into the flames. Sitting down, she didn't say anything, contemplating what to say just as he offered to speak up first:

"My dad died in Sydney."

When she first met him, Kate would've never guessed that he could be this way, so sad and distant, both self-loathing and self-pitying. She certainly hadn't given him enough credit: she would'v never guessed that he could have so many secrets, a buried past that he never shed light on, trying to ignore it all together. Until now.

She said the only thing she could think to say:

"I'm sorry."

He was looking away from the fire now, down at the burning wood below it. She could catch the flames bouncing off the reflection of his eyes, adding touch to his pain. He didn't respond, only nodded. Suddenly he looked away, as if ashamed of being caught. Thinking back to the drinking game, Kate felt guilty about pressuring him into playing it, leading him to thinking it was the perfect time to pour out his soul, lay out everything on her, when they really were still two strangers. Then again, it was a game of secrets. She thought back then to when she saw him after the fusealage, comparing exactly to how he seemed now, lost in the same exact memory and stuck with the same exact mood.

"I saw you that night," Kate admited quietly, "after the fusealage?"

A clear question never came, it was more of a confession on her part, something that she felt like needed to be said. She'd seen him before, in this same way of his, and she had been wondering about him. Who he really was. But how was she supposed to bring something like that up?

"I was just supposed to bring him home," Jack began, that self-loathing showing as he explained himself, apologizing though she saw no reason to. "That's all I had to do."

She offered him a grim smile of sympathy. She wanted to tell him that she was sure she did his best- whatever it was that came with the mission- that no one blamed him, that it wasn't his fault. But for some reason, she couldn't. They'd set a very thick line of privacy within them, as if they'd drawn a line across the beach and said 'this is my side, this is your side'. No crossing over, no curiosity about what lay on the other half. That was how it was, and that was how it would stay. They weren't ready for change yet, to hand themselves over to this new oportunity. This new redemption. But it was ready for them. Maybe that was even what dragged Jack into the jungle the night before, his own sign of things. She was curious as to what he saw, if he felt just as insane as she did. Horses didn't belong on deserted islands. Especially not horses you felt like you've seen before.

"Where were you today, Jack?" She wondered outloud, hoping more than before for an answer from him.

Jack studied the ground a moment longer, trying to find his answer within it, something to help him tell his story.

"I thought I saw him," Jack admited, "I didn't...I don't know how, I don't understand..."

Her face fell at his words, how ultimatly confused he was, wanting his own answers that he didn't think he could get. But she had her own suspicions, and she was beginning to understand now.

"You're hallucinating," Kate concluded, watching him for a reaction. His expression didn't change, but it was obvious that he was listening to her. She couldn't tell if he agreed or not. "You need some rest."

Jack shook his head. As she watched him, she found it obvious that the idea appealed to him. In fact, he seemed desperate for it, for a relieving break in his life, a peaceful sleep.

"I can't sleep," Jack said, frustrated with himself. She studied him, taking in his exhausted appearance. He looked to be fighting off sleep as they spoke. It wasn't a matter of just simply not being able to sleep, she could tell, it was the reason behind it. The nightmares, the memories. She knew this even without asking.

Reaching behind her, Kate pulled out a small bottle from her backpack and showed it to him. A sign of recognition highlighted his features, marked by confusion at her proposal.

"Sleeping pills?" He questioned unceratinly, eyeing her with slight amusement at her suggestion. Kate nodded. "Why would I take these?"

She felt a little hurt by the demand, especially because of her response.

"I do," she replied, meeting his eyes, testing him.

He left the suggestion, ignoring it, which was why she kept the meds in her hands, a constant reminder of their exsistance. Meanwhile, Jack reached into his own pack, pulling out what looked like two small pebbles. As she caught sight of them, thanks to a bouncing flame in front of them, she saw that they were two stones, smooth and small in size, one black, one white.

"Where'd you find those?" She inquired, exmaining them.

There wasn't a scratch on them. They looked like fake rock collectibles you could get at a science store, and if that was the case she was curious as to why Jack carried them around. But there was something errie about them. They seemed, in a way, haunting. They didn't come from any store, that much she was sure of now.

"At the caves," Jack replied, examining them himself. All at once his distant demeanor was gone. He looked pulled back into the present, distracting himself from their conversation, though it was still there, deep in his mind. "There were these two skeletons."

"Skeletons?" Kate repeated shortly.

Jack nodded. She didn't want to consider other lives on the island, or what that could mean. A shiver escaped her, and suddenly the rocks seemed almost downright frightening.

"No sign of any kind of trauma," Jack went on, "no sign of the cause of death at all. They were old, though. Possibly decades, maybe longer." He handed the white rock to her. "Want one?"

Kate stared at the rock, briefly wondering why it was the white one he chose to give her. He waited for her answer, and finally she took the rock, feeling a light weight falling into her hand as he gave it to her. His hand brushed against hers, and she could feel a scar there, one that she sure wasn't there the day before.

"I don't understand," Kate said suddenly, getting back on topic, "you were wet. Shivering."

Jack shrugged, as though it were no big deal.

"I fell," he explained simply, with little emotion.

She watched him in concern as he searched for a new topic, wanting to stray from his earlier jungle escapade.

"I was thinking," Jack said shortly after, "those caves make pretty good shelter. One part's caved in, but the rest looked sturdy." He turned to her, an idea floating in his mind and reflecting in his eyes. "We could probably stay there."

"'Stay there'?" Kate inquired. Whatever he meant, she didn't like the sound of it. The open beach was like heaven for her: wide spreads of freedom in every which direction, no walls holding her back. A place where she could calm her mind, free herself from her thoughts.

Jack nodded.

"Like I said, they make great shelter," Jack went on, "there's fresh water, protection from weather." He shrugged. "Seems plausible to me."

"Yeah," Kate said before she could help herself, "to you."

Bringing her knees to her chest, she attempted to hide herself from his questioning gaze. But there was no way around explaining it.

"I don't want to dig in," she admited before jumping into excuses, "it's only been a few days since we started that signal fire."

Jack looked at her incredulously.

"We've been here for a week, Kate," Jack reminded her, making her feel worse about speaking out. She couldn't change his mind, that much she already knew. But she really didn't want to dig in, and the only other possible choice made her feel sick with its consequences. "What if no one comes?"

"What if someone does?" She shot back. "You've got to have faith, Jack."

It was a funny thing for her to say, because faith was something she rarely possessed. Frankly, she never had reason to. Her life was constantly on the move, always hiding, always running. And it was hard to do those two things at once. It was terrifiying: she never knew where she'd be the next day- a jail cell or a big city. Though the idea of aliases seemed endless, there was a constant fear of being recognized. She could change her name and hair color, but there was always something about her that felt recognizable, a certain gaze or way of speaking. But now she was determined to say anything to try and change his mind. She almost felt hurt that he wanted to leave, to give up. At the same time, Kate wondered if whatever happened in the jungle today shook his hope. She felt sorry for him, but Jack clearly had his mind set on moving out, no matter what the cause or reason.

"I don't get it, Kate," Jack went on, "it's the safest choice. We wouldn't completly have to desert the beach." He glanced around, eyeing the burnt wreckage and traces of ashes from the dead. "It just makes sense."

She stared into the fire, wishing she could turn back time. Had she not approached him, would he have announced his idea? Though it was probably one of the smaller choices being made in the world right now, Kate felt like everything was crashing around her. Things were really changing, and she wasn't ready to change with it.

"I guess," she whispered, despite this, just hoping he'd leave it at that, let the idea drop.

He did, though there was no doubt in her mind that she'd be hearing from it later. Jack glanced behind them, briefly meeting eyes with the jungle before turing back to the fire. It was something he'd been doing repeativly, she noticed, and she couldn't help but to ask about it.

"You keep glancing behind you like you're looking for someone," Kate said, "is that about him?"

Jack hesiated before answering, not sure if he wanted her to know. At last he nodded, confirming her theory.

"Part of me thought..." he trailed off, just as he did earlier. If his father was dead, yet Jack was still seeing visions of him, Kate could understand his fear, both for himself and of what he was seeing. "I don't know."

Silence fell over them almost immediatly. She want to ask more questions, remembering what he was saying the night before. Was that about his father? Suddenly a dry feeling came to her mouth as she remembered one specific thing, one that she wasn't sure how to respond to, how to aproach. One she didn't understand, certain that he was just making things up, wrong about everything he saw. But now, with knowledge of his father, she found herself more curious than ever about Jack. Did his father not love him? What kind of relationship did they have? Was Jack just in a position to believe he wasn't loved or cared about, when maybe it was really just about false communication, or lack of relationship? But once again she stayed quiet, giving him space.

Thoughts about his father, about supposingly being loved, reminded herself of her own family. As messed up as they could get, Kate had spent many times in her childhood wondering if they cared about her. If she suddenly dispeared, would they even notice? When she had almost drowned, Kate was only under for a few moments before it was Jack to the rescue, saving her without second thought. It surprised her so much that she found herself almost angry at her former life, the way Tom left to start his own life, how her mother mostly ignored her, trying to act as though nothing was wrong with their homelife at all. As she grew older, everything seemed to step away from her. Eventually there'd be no one to save her, she assumed. She was really on her own.

Because of this, Kate found herself in the same position Jack was in the night before, wanting to confess, needing that relief from the burden they constantly carried around. She wondered how she would say it, how she would tell him. She wondered how he'd react, if he'd be angry with her, even hate her, or if he would be willing to understand, to accept her anyway. Soon it got to much. She couldn't take the anticipation, the wonder, any longer, and found herself opening her mouth to speak before part of her realized what she was doing:

"I want to tell you what I did," Kate announced quietly, carefully. She paused, giving him a chance to respond. As that part of her woke up to what she was doing, half of her wanted him to protest. For him to save her again, though this time from admiting the secrets that she'd kept from everyone, even those who thought they were closest to her. That part of her didn't understand why she was doing this, though the other part approved. From day one, deep down, Kate knew that she could trust Jack. He was just different, somehow.

But that part of her lost.

"I don't want to know," Jack said, offering her a small smile. Kate looked down to the ground, attempting to forget what she just did. She surprised herself, though that part of her had really wanted the confession. She wasn't the one to always act on the moment, to be prone to being engulfed by silence or pressure. Walls protected her from such things, and she'd become desperatly dependent on them. But, deep down, she wanted the very oposite. She wanted someone to know, to understand. She didn't want to be alone.

But now, after being turned down, that instinct to run came to her, that wanting to get away. Her walls were back to protect her from revealing such things, to assure her secrecy. Opening the bottle of meds, she threw two of them into her mouth, closing the bottle as she swallowed and sitting it beside Jack. She stood, marking her departure.

"Wherever you stay," Kate began, remembering Jack's idea of moving into the caves. Would he go tonight? Or would he change his mind at her disaproval of the plan? "You know where to find me."

As she left Jack turned back to the fire, and just before she could get away, she heard him mutter to himself:

"You know where to find me too."

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the reviews! You guys rock!

Thanks again!

Until next time...

October Sky


	9. If that's moving up

On An Island

Chapter Nine

_"If that's moving up then I'm..._

_Moving out"_

-"Movin' out(Anthony's Song)" by Billy Joel

**Chapter Nine: **If that's moving up...

The morning was crisp, the air still and cool, with hardly a trace of wind. As she walked the path to the caves, finding her way amongst the unfamiliar territory, Kate embraced this, knowing that not every day of weather would spare them like this. Though she had risen early, Kate spent her morning waiting for Jack to come around, only remembering just now where he was. The idea of the caves had completly escaped her throughout the course of the night, even though the shelter and possible warmths of its walls would've proved better than the cool air she struggled to sleep through. Approaching the mouth of the cave, Kate found herself wondering back to her previous inquiries about the caves: how long they had been there, who else had stayed there, and how those people came to be on the island in the first place. How did they even die? The thought sent shivers up her spine, and images of the dead bodies of her and Jack flashed in her head. Would they give up, only to be found- dead- days afterwards? Something about the theory and the death of those two people just shouted irnoy.

First a side room greeted her. Jack was in the back, she could hear him, but something caught her off guard before she could begin to approach him. The coffin that had once sat empty was now torn to bits, the wood and material scattered across the floor in angry shreds. No one had bothered to clean it up, and Kate knew that 'no one' was Jack. She thought back to yesterday, to all that he had said and all that she learned about him. It scared her that there could be so much she still didn't know.

Kate decided to leave it at that; she didn't want to risk him finding her there, walking in on her wondering about him. She could hear the sound of Jack moving around, shuffling bags and cases as he went, before she saw him. For a moment she stood at the opening of the cave, contemplating waiting to let him to notice her, but when he never did, she had to speak up.

"So how was the night?" She asked lightly, trying not to take into account all the moving that Jack was, in fact, doing in here: already he had more than a couple of suitcases stocked up, some, she saw, with medical supplies. Others had basic needs and necessities: soap, towels, bottles of water.

Jack smirked a little.

"No mint on the pillow," he replied with mock seriousness, "no hot water-" he shrugged, straightening himself up to finally face her, "but I lived."

That's what she was afraid of. Looking around at all the stuff Jack had in here, it really did look like his mind was set on staying in this place- possibly with or without her, though something told her that he'd never give up his argument.

"Expecting a party?" She joked. He laughed a little, obviously not that amused.

"Figured it'd be a waste moving everything back and forth everytime it rained," Jack said, shrugging, "just makes sense, you know?"

_Doesn't everything,_ Kate thought bitterly. That was the worst part- everything he was saying about living at the caves _did_ make sense; but there was still a part of her that wanted to stay right where she was, the part that told her that was the right thing to do. She'd always been insecure about trusting her instincts, for they ultimatly landed her right where she was today(though regret was something she also felt unsure about), and this was an especially strong feeling. No more running, not now. And considering her habit of running, it was a wonder she felt so strongly about this. Maybe she had finally found a place where she wanted to stay, somewhere realistic, at least. After all, there was no use running here if there was no one to find her. No one after her, not anymore.

So far...

"Yeah," Kate agreed anyway, voice dropping at the half-hearted comment. Jack looked to her.

"You're not giving me the silent treatment now, are you?" He asked, half-amused.

Kate snorted.

"No."

"Good," Jack said with a smile, which slowly faded as he went on, "my dad did that to me once."

"Really?" This Kate was actually finding amusing herself. "For how long?"

"Two months." He looked up at her in a challenging way, daring her to comment. She kept her mouth shut.

_"I've never been loved..."_

She had assumed he maybe just had a little too much to drink and was getting his thoughts mixed up. Or maybe he had been making things up in his head to begin with, taking things the wrong way. She couldn't, didn't want to, believe that he was telling the truth. But as she came to learn more about him and observe him, how he did things, his beliefs and determination, a sick feeling was beginning to rouse within her as she realized the possible truth of the comment. Even she couldn't say that for herself, for the most part.

She stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry" seemed to be in the middle of going unspoken- something mutually understood- sounding like a stupid thing to say at the moment, and even maybe being a little too personal. They were finding out too much about each other too fast- though she was satisfied with the little he really knew about her. But soon it'd get to the point where something would slip, just like the other night, and then all would be lost...it'd be hard to pick back up after a confession like that, if the other even wanted to. So she stayed quiet and let the apology be said silently between them. Jack gave no sign of thanks, only quietly turned back to what he was doing. She sat there, watching him continue to sort through the luggage. One thing she noticed about him was that he liked to keep himself busy. She rarely saw him having any kind of "down time", always working, always moving, no matter how big, how small, or how significant the chore was. He'd just simply go through with it without complaint, working quietly as he busied himself, seeming oblivious to the world around him.

"Have you eaten anything?" It was the one thing she could think to bring up that didn't make herself sound too desperate. Though she liked being at the beach and being alone, she admitted that it got old after awhile. Even on the run she'd always be around people, whether it'd be making her way through a big city or trying to find ways to earn money. Open land, a wide open space of her own, was something she had always dreamed of having, but now that she had it, Kate wasn't sure what to do with it. She was worried that she was taking advantage of her opportunity...one day soon rescue would come and it would all be over- possibly for good, for her.

He ignored her question.

"I don't want to be rude," Jack said honestly, "but I really wanted to get this stuff set up today."

Kate blinked, trying to find an excuse for his sudden coldness, the harsh tone of his words. Had he really been that angry with her about moving off the beach? Maybe she wasn't being angry enough with him about not staying.

"You're the only one here," Kate pointed out, nonetheless.

Jack looked at her blankly, as if what she was saying made no logical sense to him whatsover. She watched him coldly, angrily, waiting for him to say something else. She almost felt betrayed, though she couldn't say why. After all, what was it she had expected of him?

"I'll leave," Kate offered. Once again Jack said no word of thanks, only nodded as he went back to his work. She watched him for a moment, feeling like she was watching someone through a looking glass, a third wheel in a life that really only consisted of two things: her and him. And he wasn't looking back.

_She sat on the bed, knees drawn to her chest, watching him. Only the sheets remained on the bed, the comforter, the pillows, and other numerous objects and clothes that seemed to always be piled high onto the furniture gone. Boxes had been stacked around the room, an empty desk propped against the wall, looking bare and sad. Everything about the room seemed sad, and not only because that was what she was exclusivly feeling, which also included all of betrayel, hurt, and even hatred. But above all, aside from those feelings that, for now, still remained within her infamous wall of emotion, was desperation. She didn't want him to go. She wasn't afraid to say it, and she then decided that she would, no matter how immature or desperate it made her sound._

_"Do you have to go?" Kate asked quietly, staring the box Tom was packing now. She was supposed to be helping him, or at least that's what she told her parents, but she couldn't bring herself to. At the end of the day, Kate wanted that comfort of knowing she had nothing to do with his depature, his abandonment._

_He stopped and looked at her, a picture frame dangling in his hands, a picture of him and his father. Because his mom lived in Texas, Tom and his father were very close, and leaving him was clearly one of Tom's personal regrets about going to med school. She admittedly hoped that she was too. _

_"You know I have to, Katie," he said, his stare to her almost incredulous. He turned away, shaking his head, making her feel practically ashamed to ask. She watched him some more, waiting. She was almost wanting him to hurry up and be done, so he could be ready to leave, only to realize that he left behind the most important thing: her. But even if he'd let her come along, she wouldn't be able to. She wouldn't abandon her family, as previously done. And she thought that maybe living up to that duty would inspire Tom as well._

_It was completly selfish of her, Kate knew, to even want him to stay. Tom had always wanted to go into the medical field, she knew; it was his dream, and this was his chance. He'd been so happy when he received his scholarship and then later his acceptance letter. She'd gone a long with it, acting happy and excited, even thrilled, for him as well. But truthfully she was anything but thrilled. She was terrified. Her friendship with Tom had become more of a dependent relationship- where he was, she was, and when they couldn't be together she'd be desperate to be able to meet up with him again. She hadn't meant for it to be this way, hadn't meant to rely so much on this one person, but her childhood had demanded it, and Tom had accepted the offer. He'd never failed to be there for her, until now. Now he was leaving, and she couldn't help but to wonder if she was part of the reason. Was he sick of her being so clingy, so dependent on him? If only she could get another chance...after all, he'd been the only one she knew who had ever given her second chances._

_"When will you be back?" The question slipped out of her with hidden desperation, like a puppy trailing his owner until their last step out the door, trail dropped between its legs and sad eyes staring up with vacant hope. Desperate. She hated how much the word seemed to apply to her. She liked to think of herself as someone who needed to rely only on themselves, and on the outside she appeared that way, but truthfully, it was the very opposite. She had always wanted- needed- that one person or that one place she could always go back to, no matter what, something she could always depend on to be there for her, even though she might not come straight out with a request for help or even just salvation. Tom had become that person. And now he was leaving._

_This time when he stopped he faced her. Sitting down what he was packing, he stepped towards her, taking her hands in his. For a long moment she gazed down at their hands intertwined together, feeling sick at the thought. It was like staring into a bucket of murdered dreams. _

_"We've been planning this for months, Katie," Tom began sympthatetically, "I thought you were okay with it."_

_He watched her, all of concerned and sympathetic. Ignoring his gaze, she stared to the floor. How many times had she been in this room? How many times had she snuck over here when she was supposed to be in her own room or came here directly from school, never going home until long after dark? How many times had they eaten snacks in here or debated over which state they'd move to when they'd grow up? How many of their dreams would be broken, crushed, by cruel reality?_

_"I was." She hesitated. She hated having to admit that she did really want him to say, to completely give into her desperation. But if she didn't, she didn't know what she'd do. She didn't know if she could adapt to this change, to learn to live differently. "It's just-" she looked up at him, hoping he'd understand without her having to herself. Explaining her emotions was something she had never been good at, because, to her, appearing weak was like failure to herself. She had to be strong, for herself, and for certain other people that were close to her. And if she wasn't successful...that wouldn't be good. "I can't." _

_Her eyes dug into his, fighting tears. Even when completely broken she still tried to maintain that strength. The least it could provide her was a sense of hope, of recovery. But she wasn't so sure her theory would work now. Her whole life felt like one constant drama...simple events placing themselves one after the other, though simple didn't always mean happy. As far as change went, her life was pretty simple, as year after year grew even more simular. The only problem was that as she grew older, things began to become clearer to her. Bad things never seemed to make sense to her when she was younger, and eventually she just accepted them as a part of her life. But as years passed and as anticipation for answers grew, Kate began realizing more and more that there were no answers. And that's what bothered her most. Because without knowing why these bad things happened, she couldn't know how to stop them. She needed that clarification, that explination of why it was this life that was chosen for her. But as time and memory became one, everything just played itself in one blur of film. There was no rhyme or reason, it just happened._

_"I'm not running out on you," Tom said. She stared up at him but didn't reply. It certainly didn't look that way, but Kate found herself interested in what other excuses he had. "Really, I love you."_

_She cringed, disgusted by the words. She felt like they had no meaning right now, that they were simply a comment of pity._

_"If you loved me you'd stay," Kate replied quietly._

_Furrowing his eyebrows, Tom lowered himself to the bed, face softening as he did. Her eyes automatically trailed to follow him, hopeful in this sign of prevention: she was preventing him from leaving so soon...any possible attempt to make him stay could, in a perfect world, change his mind._

_"I went out there and..." he trailed off, his face suddenly taking a whole new light: awe. His own desperate need showed off then, a need for change. He went out there and he was in awe at what he found, at what he had been missing out on his whole life. And what he found didn't include her. She was in awe herself that this was possible, that their whole life could've been played out differently: he could've never even known her and he would've turned out just as happy. It not only awed her, it scared her. "I found something-" his hands found hers again, his fingers squeezing hers with each word of excitement- "I've got to do something with myself...living here, it's just-" he shook his head, searching for the right word, "a dream. I learned that out there." Wherever 'out there' was, she was already hating it. _

_Now more than ever she wanted to cry. There was just so much hurt that came with his confession, so much betrayel. To think that they didn't even matter...their dreams, their plans. And there had been plans. All of this mattered to her more than anything, it was everything to her. It was the only hope she had._

_"We talked about this," Tom reminded her, though he didn't need to. She remembered the memory so well...at first she had been so shocked that she had been stunned into silence. Maybe she had been too good of an actress afterward, because Tom had to of misinterpreted her reaction. She was _not _fine with this. How could she be? How could he expect her to be? Anger began to rush through her blood, and Kate was sure that at any moment she would explode, let it all come out. Throw back at him everything that she was feeling- the hurt, the anger, the betrayel. Let him see it and feel guilty. Again it was selfish, but again she was more infuriated, more hurt, than she ever knew to be. Well, except maybe once... "What's different about this now?" _

_Besides the fact that now he was actually leaving, there was, believe it or not, a perfectly good explination for her "sudden change in heart". A big one. One that may be her final opportunity to change his mind. Her weapon of defense...yet it was also something that could tear them apart. It was perfectly capable of changing their lives forever and not necessarily in good ways. But no matter what the result was, she knew that, eventually, she'd have to tell him. It was only fair._

_Her eyes diverted to the mattress they were sitting on, attempting to hide themselves from his gaze. She took a deep breath and then spoke:_

_"I took a pregnancy test." _

_Quickly her gaze shot back up to him, anxious for a reaction. She didn't breathe, didn't speak. She just waited._

_A hand dropped from hers. Then another. Her eyes fell to her now empty palms, searching for explination there. What did this mean? Was he angry? Dissapointed? Still she waited and no response came. He was too in awe, but not because of the opportunity this brought or the change it would require. This was the start of the many silly versions of their future, the plans made of getting married and having kids even before Tom's voice began to change. It had all be just for fun, for the jokes, but now it was becoming real. Everything was becoming real. Maybe Tom was right, this had been just a dream. And now it was time for her to wake up._

_When he never answered, she decided to ease his conscience:_

_"It was negative," she assured him, forcing relieved emotion through her voice. So much emotion was flowing through her that it was beginning to build up, forming mounds and walls of anticipation and fear._

_This time, Tom let out a sigh of relief. His arms flew around her then, and she heard him laugh in her ear. She didn't return the hug. She didn't laugh. He pulled away, and upon seeing her still form his face contorted apologetically._

_"This isn't the right time," Tom explained. She nodded but only half-heartly. Of course this wasn't the time. This was his time for change, not for her._

_Silence loomed over their conversation, over the bags packed and the memories stored away. Outside the air was still, painting a picture of dreams that once lay beyond the room's single window: a whole world devoted to only him and her. What would come out of it, now that he would be gone? There wasn't another neighbor for miles, and Tom's dad wasn't exactly the come-over-for-lunch type of person._

_"My bus leaves in an hour," Tom reminded her quietly, relucantly. His voice soft, his own relucance finally began to show. She realized it was a great relief to her to see that this wasn't coming so easily to him. Despite her current feelings, Kate knew Tom and knew that he hated leaving her at a time like this, after a confession like that. But it had to be done. Apparently there was no turning down a practically free ride scholarship to med school. He hesitated before speaking up again. "If anything happens, you know-" he cleared his throat. Tom had always hated the conditions she lived under, and he also hated that she would refuse anyone's help but his. There was just so much trust required for that and so much risk involved. Kate wasn't sure if she could depend on either. "You can always go to my dad. You know that." He looked up at her, eyes trying to meet hers. She never returned the gaze. "Promise me you will." She didn't. She couldn't. "Kate..."_

_He trailed off, assumingly knowing it was a hopeless case. He hated it, she could see, but finally they were on the same page again. Her eyes bore into the matress of the bed, ignoring his request. As silence lingered on, he eventually gave in. Wrapping his arms around her, he embraced her tightly. He really did care about her, that she could admit she knew, and he might of even hated this just as much as she did. She could feel him breathing heavily, as though savoring every emotion, every scent, every passing second of that moment, as she held him back. If this had to happen, she wasn't just going to throw away a chance to say good-bye. She at least deserved that. The moment drew on and they still hadn't parted. They were losing track of time, she knew, and without much planning, Kate made a choice not to remind him to go. She didn't want to help him leave. She didn't want this moment to end. She wanted to savor it, everything about it, letting everything record itself in her mind in snapshots and frames of memory. Of course, it would've been better if she could've just had this moment forever, if he didn't have to go. On the verge of tears, Kate took in a last breath of the moment, holding on until she had to let go, leaving it to just become another brush of that painting._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Tom did go. That was hours ago, before it became so cool outside. Crossing the field that lay between her and Tom's house, providing the perfect dreamscape for a day of adventure or just lounging in the sun, Kate clutched her bag tightly to her. She grew accustomed to bringing the backpack with her everywhere she went and not just because Tom gave it to her. Looking around, double checking for intruders, Kate slipped away into a small cluster of trees. The perfect hiding space. She knelt to the ground, pausing before unzipping the bag. She remembered running here once, the furthest she could reach to consider herself running away. During her escapade Kate realized she liked the term, and it was an idea that never left her, no matter how close her and Tom had come. He would always be apart of her plan too. While Tom was off wishful-thinking himself into a fantasy of having a home and kids and a pool table in the garage, she was dreaming of just leaving. Just being away. Tom had been the one to find her that day, though she was proud of the time it took to discover her hiding place. After that, he silently agreed to leave the land to her, never once stepping foot into it again. They had their own hiding places, but Kate also grew to need a place of her own to hide. An easy escaped._

_Finally she opened the very front pocket of her bag. It had been a disgusing thing to do, she knew, but she didn't know where else to put the test. If Tom's dad had found it, he would've probably shift him off to the army, sending him as far away from Kate as possible. There wouldn't of even been an opportunity for Tom to change his mind. But if one of her parents found it, the consequences could've been even worse, even if it would've only been her father going off, shouting things that made her grateful for the open space around them, making it nearly impossible for any arguing to be overheard. So she'd wrapped the test carefully, placing it back in the box. Even if movement had disrupted the results of the test, the answer was still clear in Kate's mind. She hadn't been able to tell him, even if there was a slight chance he could've stayed. Who knew, maybe Tom's dad would've forced him to stay here, to deal with these consequences. _

_As she unwrapped the test, Kate's eyes fell on the answer that was still true to before, the one that would change her life forever. She couldn't even imagine dealing with this. She didn't know who to tell, what to do. _

_But the one thing she had to face was that the test was, without a doubt, positive._

Author's Notes: So when thinking of this story, consider everything that's been found on the island: people, places, things. Consider things that have happened to them- everyone. And that will get you through the next few chapters. Thanks so much for the reviews!

Thanks again...

Until next time...

October Sky


	10. Taken

On An Island

Chapter Ten

**Warning: **This chapter contains a lot of violence and implied violence.

**Chapter Ten:** Taken

Her hand clutched to his desperately as he literally pulled her along. They couldn't afford to fall behind. The ground came and went underneath them, and the only thing around them was a hazy darkness. Any moment he'd drop. He knew it. Shivers still ran up and down his spine, his entire body was still shaking, making it that much more difficult to flee from death...again. A cry escaped behind him, and Jack's hand closed even more tightly around Kate's sweaty palms.

"Jack!"

He stopped at her voice, desperate, broken, shaky. So unlike Kate's true tone. She stumbled into him at the abrupt stillness. Even the air around them, for that split second, was dead. And then they saw it. The black thing swirled around them in a taunting dance. She shook beneath his hold, clutching his hand frantically for some kind of notion of safety. They stepped in circles, no where to go. Death was looming in a true darkness around them, and they were stuck within it.

(space)

**Hours eariler...**

A sudden feeling of claustraphobia came over him. Where was she? It didn't hit him until after she left that he had been more than rude and for no apparent reason. Now that he was back at the beach, a place that already felt unfamiliar to him, as though its essence were slipping away from him, a new feeling was coming to him: worry. Kate had every right to go where she pleased, but something about her disapearance made his stomach churn, his mind spin in desperation for relief. Glancing up and down the beach, Jack saw no sign of her until he caught site of her footsteps. They were in a straight trail, heading away from the camp. Eyebrows furrowing in concern and curiosity, Jack walked towards them.

He followed the trail a few yards: so far, she'd gone pretty far. The footprints remained in their line throughout her trail, never venturing into a different step. Looking behind him, Jack noted that their camp was shrinking in sight, becoming nothing but a speck of wreckage. His feet stopped in protest beneath him. The fear hours of rest he was able to snatch had done him good, but not that exhausted feeling left over from yesterday's adventure in the jungle was beginning to take over again, limb by limb, muscle by muscle. He looked down, as though he were planning on lecuring his feet about the need to move forward. Jack sighed and pushed himself to move forward, skipping the debate with his feet.

Awkward would probably describe what he had been feeling that morning...'the morning after'. What did she think about him, after yesterday? Embarrased definetly went along with it. How had he let himself get so out of control? It scared him, in fact, that he had lost that hold on himself so easily. It was what this place seemed to be doing him. There was nothing to hold him back and no reason to.

Suddenly his feet caught on something. Retracing his steps back a foot, Jack knealed down into the sand, letting his hand find the cable that had tripped him. After studying the cable for a moment, he noticed something about the sand underneath it as well: the footprints stopped. Kate had stopped. His eyes trailed from the cable to its path into the jungle. Following a foreign cable into a jungle that already proved to be everything less than friendly didn't seem like the best thing to do, but Kate's footsteps led that way, and that bad idea would support his bad feeling.

Following her footsteps into the jungle, along with the cable, Jack walked on. Her footprints stopped a little ways into the jungle, even when mud began to seep throw the jungle grass. She'd changed paths. The cable was no longer a little ways above the ground, pulled out by her hands, as it had been before. For some reason unknown to him, she'd lost interest in the new discovery. Jack stopped, looking around for some kind of clue as to where she could've gone. Left or right? Just to ease his conscience, he took a step left, then a step right. Then another step right. Then another.

A yelp of pain escaped him as his leg was pulled out from under him. There was a click and the sound of wires moving, and the next thing Jack knew he was suspended in the air, dangling upside down. Blood rushed through his head, an unbelievable amount of pain being forced upon his ankle. He was certain that at any moment it was completely disconnect from his leg, despite any medical rules that would argue that theory. Gasping in pain, Jack desperatly grabbed for his ankle, fighting every ounce of pain rushing through him in attempts to free himself. But dizziness overuled, charging through him with every push upwards. It was hopeless effort that was making him feel even more weak, even more defeated. The only trace of hope he had was that someone would find him. It was a long shot, but as his mind swirved, his vision changing directions without any effort from he himself. The once bright day now seemed to be growing darker, the once quiet jungle seeming very alive and angry around him. But the one thing Jack was now able to focus in on was the silhouette stepping towards him, and with each step closer Jack became more and more certain that this person was, somehow, not Kate.

He tried to speak but he couldn't. Maybe it was shock or maybe it was fear, but every word came out in pathetic trembles. The person continued to step towards him without his consent, becoming within feet of his reach. Something shiny caught his eye as the person's hand came up: a knife. They were going to help him. Heaving a sigh of relief, Jack forced himself to relax. He looked above him, and he was just wondering how this person was going to manage to cut him down when he heard a thud from behind him. It was until he was in complete darkness that he realized he'd been hit over the head.

(space)

He couldn't feel anything. Not at first. He remembered vaguely being hurt somehow, wounded. Something with his feet...he'd been talking to them? No, that never happened. But something did. Something that let him here, to even more darnkess. Dim was more like it. He jerked awake, head flying side to side. He didn't know where he was. The smell, the enviroment...jungle was all around him, he could feel it, but he couldn't _see_ it. In the back of his mind he could hear somebody talking to him, but he couldn't make out a figure. The room, or whatever it was, he was in was shady. Looking side to side, Jack was confronted with his worse fear of what could happen to him them: he was bound, chained up. How had he not considered where that trap came from, who's it was?

Now he was getting a better view of where he was. His wrist were suspended above him, shut tight in chains that dangled from the bars of some kind of bed. There was no mattress underneath him, but he was in no position in which he could've been laying on it, for his ankles were in chains as well, leaving him hoavering a few inches above the bare springs of the cot.

Fear was all he knew. He'd never been chained up before. Hell, he'd never even been locked in a closet. He didn't know what to do, what he was supposed to be doing. He was breathing heavily, unnaturally slow, and he knew that it needed to be slowed down. He had to calm down. That'd be the only way he'd get out of this. He looked from each wrist, wincing in pain at the thought of the skins being restrained against the circles of hard metal. A gasp of pain escaped him, and his head fell back, hitting nothing but air, as he came to accept his situation. He was stuck.

A figure approached him then, and suddenly he remembered the shadow from before. The realization hit him with a new feeling he hadn't been expecting to be granted so soon: relief. His left ankle was freed, the one he remembered being injured eariler. He watched with a desperate hope as his captive let the chain fall to the ground. Jack listened for the impact, but it was soft.

There was another person on the island. With something else to consider besides pain, Jack found his mind wrapped around the thought. This person wasn't dead but fully alive. Were they authority? The enemy? Or just a survivor like himself, broken by the demands of the island, some of which he couldn't ever imagine. He considered for the first time what all the island could be, who could be on it. There could be a whole tribe of people, just on the other side. Would they be willing to help them? Or did they have other plans?

And Kate...where was she? The idea of her tied up somewhere just like himself, or maybe in worse condition, sent him fighting his bindings, though it proved to be uselss.

"Please..." he begged to his captive, who remained a safe distance away from him, watching him, interested and curious, like he was a new breed of animal at the zoo. Now he understood why people were so against caged animals. It took a lot to deserve to be locked up. And Kate...Kate didn't seem like she deserved that. "Don't kill me."

He could make out the captive now: a woman. She stepped into the light a little, long and tangly hair covering her shoulders and shielding a good portion of her face. He gasped not only at the realization but at the pain that was continulously shooting up his leg, pleading for relief. In the light now, they stared at each other, Jack in fear, the woman in...amusment? A smile was creeping across her face, and she looked like someone who hadn't smiled in a long time.

"You think I'm going to kill you," she observed. Her voice was plain. No emotion. It was like any kind of feeling was given without needing to actually show it. To think of the disadvantage Jack had over this woman send him shuddering in pain and fear.

"I'm with someone," he explained, his voice frantic, "I need to get back to him."

At the mention, the woman's face hardened.

"Who are you with?" She asked briskly, moving towards his ankle again. She picked up the chain.

"No!" Jack gasped, shaking his head in protest. Tears stung at his eyes. He just felt so helpless...there really seemed to be nothing he could do and so many bad results could come from this. What if she were to kill him? What if Kate never knew what happened to him? There was no doubt in Jack's mind that Kate wasn't independent enough to survive on her own, but the burden he'd leave her, everything she'd be thrown into...or was he overestimating their relationship? Still, the less locked up the better.

"Where is she?" The woman demanded, though her voice remained cool and quick.

Jack's eyes widened. Did she mean Kate?

"I don't-"

His wounded ankle was picked up off the mattress. A cry of pain escaped him before he could help it, a stinging sensation quickly being followed by a burning swallowed his ankle. The wound must've worsened with the kidnapping.

"Where is she?" The woman asked again. "Where is Alex?"

Somehow, knowing she didn't mean Kate didn't ease him.

"Where's Kate?" Jack forced out, voice trembling in a sickening vibration.

The woman stood up, forgetting his ankle as she let it drop. Jack gasped in pain as it hit a mattress spring. How was it that in the past week he had been in more psyical pain than he could remember being in his whole life? And how was it that it had only been a week? He could still say 'two weeks ago I took a coffee break at one', and it would still be a frame of time. The island hadn't been a part of his life then, as it was now. How was it that everything changed so quickly.

"Where is Alex?" The woman asked again, putting a deep emphasis on each word.

Jack shook his head frantically side to side, trying not to think of the consequences of him not knowing.

"I don't know..." Jack tried desperatly, "I don't know..."

Would she leave him here, chained up forever? Or would she simply put a bullet through his head and be done with it? A rifle, he noticed, lay ontop of some boxes in a corner. It'd be an easy enough process. Instead, the woman disapeared behind some kind of fence...a fence?

He hardly had time to wonder as sudden pain shot up his body. He didn't know what happened if it was something he did or something she did, but a wavery, stinging pain shot through him like he'd never felt before, even with these recent injuries. He screamed. It echoed back to him. Limbs shaking madly, Jack gasped as he was thrown about, realizing what was happening. Electrocution...it was some kind of electrocution.

But as soon as it started it stopped. His body fell limply down to the mattress, as far as his binds would let him. Head rolling to the side, Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to slip away. The pain lingered within him, like setting water. There was no energy left in him. Pain. That was all he knew. He could feel the mattress lower as more weight was lowered to it, and Jack shook as his eyes fluttered open to look.

"If you do not calm down," the woman began, "I'll have to make you."

It looked like she already had her mind made up. In her hand was some kind of serenge, but in all his pain and confusion, Jack couldn't make out what it was. He began shaking harder. So desperatly he wanted to be away...he wanted to get to safety, he wanted to know that, wherever she was, Kate was okay. Jack tried to picture her at the beach, standing by the ocean as she liked to do. He tried to make the sounds, the smells, everything come to life in his mind. He tried to picture her face, her smile, anything that was in a different, painless world.

But obviously, even so, the woman didn't consider this calm. He couldn't even think to cry out as the needle pinched his skin. He was out in seconds.

(space)

She didn't know which she was supposed to be more surprised about, finding the cable in the jungle or finding the horse again. The animal's calm demeanor surprised her as she sat with it in the jungle, studying its fur, its mane, everything that made it so horse-like...though considering where they were, that should be impossible. But it was here.

"Where'd you come from?" She asked the horse, running her hand through its mane. Naturally, she received no answer. The horse seemed not at all alarmed by her presence, the presence of a stranger. Wherever its owner was, it wasn't too ready to get back, obviously, as it stayed still and peaceful, letting her admire its beauty.

As she let her hand slide down over the skin on its face, Kate noticed something she'd failed to observe before: a thick scar ran under its eye. Shocked at the flaw in the animal's beauty, Kate stepped back, lowering her hand, careful not to startle it. Just like that she was knocked out of the peace of the moment, welcomed back to reality. She had no clue how long she'd been here; Jack would have no idea of where she was. Of course, if he was still in any kind of mood close to the one he was in earlier, he wouldn't care. But even so her mind still clicked in on the scar over the animal's face, and as though it were realizing the attention it was getting, suddenly uncomfortable and ashamed, the horse dashed away, galloping in a speed Kate recognized as the speed of someone running away from something else. Momenarily stunned by the horse's sudden departure, Kate didn't notice the crack of a twig behind her, not noticing the shadow of an approaching figure until it positioned itself behind her, in perfect reach to bring to her a blow to her head, knocking her out instantly.

(space)

His mind was still swimming in darkness as he was pushed back into reality, as though someone were giving him a shove forward, urging him to go on. He didn't want to, but he was being forced to. Jack would've loved nothing more than to be able to linger in that patch of still darkness, that peace of mind that was, indeed, painless, emotionless. He could've stayed their forecer basking in the realm of unknown; to not even really be but to almost be halfway. To hold destiny in his hands and not in the hands of some foreign captor.

"I'll ask you again." She wasted no time. There was no sign that this woman didn't have confidence in what she was doing. She didn't seem at all threatened by his presence, though his wrist still rest in chains above him, scratching the skin away around the bones. "Where is Alex?"

"_Please!_" Jack pleaded, fighting to find his voice, swallowing and caughing to make his tone clearer. "I don't know who you're talking about!" Suddenly his story spilled out of him without his consent, pouring confessing from the pool of his soul. "I'm just a plane crash survivor!"

His captor stepped into the light, letting the curiosity be shown from her face once more. His body instinctivly tensed at her stepped forward, twitching painfully as he tried to jerk away, though in truth, she showed no sign of wanting to hurt him. Cold shivers raced up and down his spine, chasing the particles of sweat that went with it, nerves built up in beads of moisture against his skin, shaking him to the bone.

"You said you were with someone," she said calmly.

Kate...the mention of her shook him, jolting his memory like seeing a picuture of a long-ago event. He'd never felt so far away from anyone, even though another presence was right in front of him. Consiously, he felt more alone, more helpless than he could remember feeling in his life, topping even the most traumatic events he had encountered throughout his years. What would he had given to be back on the beach now, to know he was safe? To know she was safe?

"We're just plane crash survivors!" Jack exclaimed desperatly. "We're just castaways..." suddenly his breath began escaping him in slower gasps, the circle his mind was spinning in slowing into a less frantic acceleration. "We just want to get home."

An odd feeling of relief swept over him then, and Jack realized he was grateful to be able to tell the story to someone, for someone to know what they were going through, what they had been forced into. And if this woman could help them in any way, Jack would even consider forgiving her. He knew that Kate wasn't keen about going back into a life on the run, but realistically they were killing themselves trying to survive on this island. For a few months it may work, but years?

Somehow his captor seemed to match his sympathy. Even though his body once again tensed as she stepped forward, his eyes following her in cold fear as she moved to the chains that were holding him up. He held his breath as she unhooked one and then the other, his arms falling like a dead weight beside him, relief washing through him with a sigh of gratefulness. All through this the woman watched him, still interested, still curious in his reactions and behavior.

"I've been here sixteen years," the woman informed him.

She watched as he reacted, an incredulous smile escaping him...now she was lying to him? But she kept on staring at him, looking both amused and insulted. She was telling the truth.

"Sixteen years?" Jack gasped, shaking his head, thinking how impossible that was. Sixteen years she had survived this island? He'd barely been able to make the week.

"There is no going home," she said firmly, arms crossed. "So I'll ask you again. Where is Alex?"

Suddenly there was a scream. It sounded far away, too distant for his liking, but even in his hazy mind, Jack still could make it out as a cry for help. He rembebered hearing her scream when she was drowning, and it was like that now...but much more further away.

"Where's Kate?" Jack demanded, looking around, as though expecting to see her suddenly appear in a corner. "What did you do with her?" When the woman didn't answer, lips turned up in that same amused-like grin of hers, Jack exploded, yelling even louder this time. "What did you do with her!"

He didn't have time to resist as one of his wrist was locked up again, but Jack was now alert enough to fight back with his free hand, attempting to swat the woman away, even hit her if he had to. Her silence was enough for him to know: she had Kate too. As his free hand was grabbed, fingers wrapping tightly around the already scarred skin, Jack cried out in pain, still jerking himself about though it would prove to be of known avail. Once again the woman didn't look at all threatened. They met eyes, Jack's full of anger and hatred, fear no longer seemed important to him. His life wasn't the only one in danger now, and he had to do something about it.

But he couldn't fight back any longer. Though fear could easily be put out of question for the moment, pain could not, no matter how much he tried. It would creep back to him, leashed to him by chain- literally. Another gasp escaped him as he felt the loop latch around his skin once more, restraining him from hope, from opportunity. He was no use to neither he nor Kate like this, and he despised it. It made him sick, to think of what a disadvantage he was put in. And he didn't even do anything! He was just a normal guy, just a doctor. He had a life away from this, however far away it could feel at times. While part of him seemed to accept being strapped to the island, the other was still in the frame of mind of thinking that next week, he'd be back home. This would all become like a dream, just a fantasy. He could admit that at times, there were benefits of being on the island, like being able to know Kate(though he wouldn't always express this feeling), but sometimes the idea of safety, of being able to depend on protection of someone that wasn't himself, seemed like a good bargain as well. Though he liked the idea of being able to protect himself and someone else, it was a hell of an idea of responsibility, especially when his attempts were failing him at the moment.

"I'll give you one more chance," the woman offered, though with no sympathy. She was wanting something out of this, she was wanting her answer. She wouldn't kill him or Kate, or at least he didn't think. That's how it seemed to go in the movies, anyway. Most of the time... "Where is Alex?"

"I swear to God if you hurt her..." Jack trailed off. He knew what was coming, and the least he wanted was reassurance that Kate wouldn't suffer from him not being there. Theoretically, as long as she had him to deal with, Kate wouldn't be touched. He didn't want her to suffer from his stupidity...at least Kate had been smart enough to stop following the cable. But he was running out of opportunities to carry their on conversation.

"Don't worry," the woman said briskly. Her hands cupped the sides of his face, her cold skin sending a shiver up his spine. He watched her, trying to prepare himself for whatever might come. "This will be over soon."

The last he knew was of something hard coming down over his head, and once again he was thrust back into darkness. At least, he could consider, one of his wishes were granted.

(space)

She wished he would wake up. She couldn't stand to look at him like this, so hurt, so defeated. He lay limply, sprawled out across the bed, an inch from the springs, hanging helplessly. Her own arms were tied behind her to the chair she was in, bound so tightly she was already losing feeling in her wrist, but she couldn't bring herself to complain as she was forced to watch him, waiting for him to araise. Their captor had yet to come back, leaving the two of them alone though with no way out. She wanted to call his name but Kate was afraid of disturbing him, of bringing him back into the horryfiying reality they were stuck in. Though an obvious pain was painted across him, highlighting the fretful features of his face, there still seemed to be a sense of peacefulness about him, like this was right where he wanted to be. She knew that wasn't true, that there had to be a hundred other places Jack would rather be than right there, but it was all in the state of mind.

Without warning a groan escaped his chapped lips, head bobbing its way back into the present. His eyes opened slowly, dazed as they adjusted to the dim light. Piece by piece the rest of him seemed to be coming alive, all adding up to one jerk of motion, sending her heart leaping in surprise. Her eyes watched as he became more and more aware of where he was, step by step confronting his situation again. Until he saw her. Then he knew that something wasn't right.

"Hey," she greeted him softly, showing as much sympathy as she could. She felt badly for him, that he had to take the consequence for her stupid mistakes. All of this because she had just wondered off, selfishly angry at him when she probably should've been sympathetic even then. Of course he would have followed her. That seemed to be how he was.

No response came, only more frantic looks around the room. It was only then that Kate realized what he must've been looking for.

"She's not here," Kate assured him, glancing to the floor, "Rousseau."

He looked to her, as though her words had pierced him.

"You know her name?"

She was at first shocked by his raspy voice, the tone that was earlier so full and confident now worn-out, and like his demeanor, defeated. Opening her mouth, it took some effort to answer him.

"Her name," Kate began quietly, head still to the floor, "it's on her jacket."

She nodded towards a jacket that hung up on the wall, suspended much like in the way Jack was now. The thought made her shudder.

"What happened to you?" She couldn't help but to ask. She couldn't take the suspense. What the hell did this woman, Rousseau, want?

The last thing she expected him to do happened: he laughed. It was an incredulous, stunned laugh that escaped him with a haunting force, sending shivers up her spine.

"She shocked me," Jack replied. He was shaking his head, looking around the room though he didn't look too aware of anything he was doing.

She didn't know what he meant until he nodded towards some equipment in the back of the room, and Kate really began to study the place, understanding. Electro shock.

"Only once, but..."

"Once was enough." Kate finished for him quietly. Jack nodded.

"She knocked me out a few times," Jack went on, finding his voice more easily with each word, fully awake now, "she even injected me...it knocked me out."

A lump developed in her throat. Maybe they weren't as strong as they thought they were. How the hell would they get out of this? There were no authorities to help them here, and even if they were, Kate herself couldn't depend on them. She'd always depended on herself...and she always got out of every obstacle life threw at her. Even if it meant surviving a plane crash. So she had to get out of this one...somehow, she would.

"We'll get out of this," Kate assured him, voice determined and confident. She was being restrained by her ankles and hands, even by rope tied around her chest. There was a wound on the back of her head where Rousseau had knocked her out, and Jack was shackled with no key in sight. But she still had to remain confident. Otherwise she'd never even have the guts to escape.

But when Jack looked at her, meeting her eyes, it was obvious he thought differently. Looking drained, exhausted; wounded and hurt, Jack seemed to be mirroring everything he felt to her then all in that one hopeless look. He wasn't as confident. He knew what danger they were in first hand. Any risk may be too big of a risk, and neither wanted themselves or the other to be hurt any more than they already were.

A gate closed from nearby. Both heads jerked towards Rousseau as she stepped down into the hut, the jungle disapearing behind her as she descended into the dim room. She didn't speak, didn't even acknowledge them after turning her back, heading towards the other side of the hut. The side where she had obviously been controling her electro shock equipment.

"I said I'd give him one more chance," Rousseau informed them.

Jack looked to Kate immediatly, as though he were expecting her to stop this. He needed her help now, and he wasn't afraid to admit that. He was going to try as hard as he could to get himself out of this situation, but it was becoming clear that, eventually, Jack wasn't afraid to stop and say okay, I'll take your help. And because Jack seemed to be a person who liked to do things for himself, take care of himself and others, that said a lot about his character, how being in this situation had suddenly changed him that drastically. And she felt terrible then because, the truth was, unless a miracle opportunity came to them, she wasn't sure how she could help. Before it had all been wishful thinking, her whole line of thought changed as soon as she saw Rousseau, like the situation had just taken a jolting turn for the worse.

Rousseau looked to Jack then, snapping each of them out of their thoughts with her single stare.

"Where is Alex?" Rousseau asked Jack, carefully emphasising each word. Even Kate looked to Jack, waiting for the answer that she knew would never come. Why, she wondered, hadn't this woman asked Kate the question yet? And more importantly, who was this Alex and what happened to her that made this woman so vengeful that she'd electricute someone, bind and even chain them up? As angry and furious she was at Rousseau's actions, she was just as curious.

She heard the scream before she could even think to see it coming. Jack's yells echoed through the jungle, his body shaking like crackles of flames bursting from a fire. His screams shook her. For an instant she felt the need to be brave for him, and in an instant the feeling was gone as Kate had to turn away for a moment, biting her lip. She closed her eyes tightly, desperate to block everything out, to convince herself that this wasn't real. It was all just a nightmare...a cruel, horrific nightmare. Then she screamed. She couldn't stop herself, yelling for it all to end, until it finally did. Shaking, Jack was a simple vibration dangling there, screaming even after the vibrating had stopped. It took a full moment for his mind to adjust, a loud gasp escaping him; twitching, shaken to the bone. Rousseau watched him, looking eeriely satisfied. Kate could've killed her then.

"He doesn't know!" Kate exclaimed, feeling on the verge of tears. She faught her emotions, in a war with the wall that was threatening to come down. If that happened, then this was all real. She had found someone who could make her feel so...vulnerable, destroying the act she had worked so hard to perfect. But she really did care about what happened to Jack then, more than ever. The scars were still on his face from the boar attack, but that memory already felt so distant and far away. This was happening now, a surreal experience even she couldn't imagine happening. At least to someone else. Because she knew what could be awaiting her, were she to ever be caught. It was one of the main reasons she was so determined to run. She bit her lip, palms sweating against the ropes that bound her. Until that moment, she'd nearly forgotten she was tied up, once again confronted with just how useless she was then. Or maybe she wasn't... "What more can you do? It's useless."

Rousseau looked at her for an honest moment, as if she were really considering her question. On the cot, hands still locked into the chains that bound him, Jack looked to be swimming between two worlds: on one hand he looked exhausted, almost unrecognizably so, so hurt from the torture he'd undergone. But on the other, he looked hopeful, almost as though he was understanding what was going on, though Kate couldn't see how that was possible in his condition. Sweat and tears dripped down his face, ziggzagging across his skin and falling onto his shirt, soaked with sweat and hanging loosely off his skin. On one hand he looked on the verge of death- for the most part he did, like he was just waiting for a big finish...and the other hand, the hopeful, desperate part of him that still exsisted, shaking and trembling behind the bulky figure of the terrified, tortured side, wasn't grand enough to support its cause. Kate swallowed...maybe the woman hadn't even planned any kind of drastic ending before her question. Maybe she never would have. But before Kate could go back on her word, Rousseau turned away, bringing back a bucket of water. Neither could wrap their minds around what the water could possibly mean, not until it was suddenly tossed onto Jack, instantly soaking him to the bone. Kate flinched on instinct as some of the water hit her, turning back to find Jack caughing in surprise.

"I'll kill him," Rousseau announced firmly, positioning herself back to where she was before, as though the thought of murder was nothing.

She froze. Jack, already shivering from the cool water, looked from Kate to Rousseau. He looked absolutly petrified.

"I don't know who you're talking about!" Jack said with a gasp, his voice suddenly raspy. He blinked, surprised at his own voice. "I swear."

"He doesn't," Kate confirmed, desperate. She found herself calming down, trying to sympathize even with Rousseau, "look, whoever you lost, I'm sorry, but-"

"Have you ever lost a child before?" Rousseau asked suddenly. It wasn't intemidating or even demanding. But the question still made Kate stop, meeting Rousseau's eyes. Jack looked between the two of them, waiting for an answer. Neither said anything. At the silence, Rousseau turned back to Jack. The tension in the room could've been sliced in half. "Where is Alex?"

Kate held her breath. Jack didn't even answer this time. His look was nothing more than expressionless, vacant. In her mind, she could already hear the screams. In that very doubtful part that lay dwelling in the back of her head, always ready to emerge at every opportune moment, Jack was already dead.

But in reality, he wasn't. All they found themselves being able to do was wait, and nothing happened. A dreadful anticipation still looming over Kate forced her to stay quiet, forced any ounce of protest in her to remain hidden. And finally something did happen. Silently Rousseau stepped forward, approaching Jack without remorse or second thought. Both Jack and Kate watched, Rousseau's presence seeming to demand attention like a controling force from beyond.

One chain was brought down. Then two. In a mixture of a breath and a gasp, relief washed over Jack's worn, wet face. Arms falling limply to his sides, Jack seemed numb to any kind of feeling within him, but the look on his face was purely grateful. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment as though he hadn't been able to breathe freely for days. Not sure how to react, Kate let him have his moment, watching with a much less intense stare, relieved herself. But now that Jack was free, she couldn't help but to wonder what would happen to her.

"Get up."

At first she thought the demand was to herself, and she thought to question it, noting that she, unlike Jack, was still tied and bound. But Rousseau was staring clearly at Jack. Confussed, Kate looked to Jack, who did nothing but stare back at Rousseau, blinking in his own confusion.

"Get up." Rousseau demanded again, pulling one of his arms up but leaving him to do the rest. Painfully, Jack had to force himself to stand. His legs didn't seem to agree, sending him back down twice before he was finally able to pull himself up, gasping and wincing violently. When he stood again he stayed, standing still, arms clutched to his sides limply, shivering from the water that still dripped from him. His face shook with a force that made Kate cringe, lips blue and trembling. With an angry force, Rousseau grabbed each of his hands, pulling him towards her. He stumbled, gasping painfully as his weight landed on his bad ankle.

"He's hurt!" Kate cried. "Can't you see that?"

Rousseau ignored her, reaching behind her for some rope. Somehow, Jack caught what she was doing, surprising even Kate when he suddenly thrust his hands forward, pushing Rousseau away with a shaky effort. Gracefully Rousseau caught herself before she could fall, unarmed. Jack stared at her, suddenly looking terrified, as though he were just realizing what he did. Kate watched her as well, fear rushing through her blood. Feeling so afraid for someone wasn't something entirely unknown to her emotions, but each time it happened the emotion made her wonder, considering her intentions and her possibilities. It was the one thing, she knew, that could hold her back from sucessfully running, and it did. And now it was happening again.

"Please..." Jack studdered, the word escpaing him like she had heard so many times.

Once again Rousseau gave him that thoughtful look, the false hope that would ultimatly disapoint him, leaving a dangerous bruise on his faith. And, careful not to let that knowledge down, Rousseau simply reached behind her, pulling back a syringe that she dug deep into Jack's neck. He fell to the floor in a cold limp. Staring at his broken form, Kate began shaking herself, and a long moment pass before she was finally able to look back up to Rousseau, and when she met her eyes Kate knew: it was her turn now.

(space)

Music played in her ears. Soft, cool singing, coming from the quiet lips of someone else nearby. But she didn't think that Jack could sing...and this person sounded female. As Kate regained consious, it took her awhile to readjust, to understand. Memories came back to her in frames as she watched the world float back to her realm of vision, all leading up to one loud scream she recognized as Jack. She tried to look around, to see where he was, but her head felt heavy; she couldn't see beyond what her eyes would allow her too- which included a woman sitting at some kind of table, humming and gazing at an open, silent, music box.

"What's that?" Kate groaned wearily, attempting to reposition her wrist in the chains that bound them.

The woman she remembered as Rousseau looked up to her. Kate was slightly surprised; her captor looked alarmed, caught off guard for the first time.

"A music box," Rousseau replied calmly, "Robert gave it to me."

Something about the comment struck Kate. No longer did Rousseau seem terrifying or even angry. She seemed to be at a momentary peace with herself, looking unaware of what she was saying.

"Was Robert your husband?" Kate couldn't help but to ask, half-curious, half with other intentions. Any way to keep Rousseau at this calm pace, to keep this advantage, would do good for both her and Jack, whom she remembered was still lying in a cold heap on the floor. She could see only his back, his body curled in a perfect half-moon shape as he remained quiet and unmoving. Even if he were to awake then, Kate couldn't be sure of how well he would be able to function. Just the shock of what had happened would be enough to keep him down.

Suddenly something within Rousseau snapped, and the captor side of her was back. Slowly she stood, sitting the music box down.

"Do you know where Alex is?"

Kate couldn't explain why Rousseau was being so calm with her, unlike with Jack. Maybe she had simply calmed down herself, no longer seeing the need to be so on edge. Maybe she had realized what she had done and had her own regrets. Once again, Kate decided to take advantage.

"You asked me before if I've ever lost a child," Kate began quietly, staring vacantly at the floor. She swallowed. Never again did she expect to be forced to bring the subject back up, especially in this place. She had been careful to keep her mind during the drinking game to avoid just that, even then giving Jack the consequences of her decision. "I never got to answer." Glancing towards the unmoving form of Jack, she made sure he was still out of it, unaware of what was going on. But she never got a chance to explain herself, as she let her silence draw on. Deep down, even if it may help them out of this situation, Kate wasn't ready to come to terms with her own past, the secrets that still slept within her. The adversities she swore to never tell another soul. It was hard to let go of such an agreement.

"You're lying," Rousseau said suddenly, hardly giving her a chance.

Kate just stared at her, meeting the woman's eyes, praying that she'd understand; as a mother and as someone who had obviously lost something so dear to them. To her surprise and pleasure, Rousseau still remained quiet. As the sleeping Jack constantly came back to mind, she almost felt guilty at how easily she was having it right now, knowing just how worse it could be.

"Do you love him?" Rousseau asked, again speaking so suddenly, her questions bouncing off of her like guessed answers. Except she wasn't the one having to solve the problem.

It took Kate a moment to realize what Rousseau meant.

"Who, Jack?" She inquired, partially amused and partially taken aback. Love? She had hardly considered a relationship with him. Naturally they had grown close over the past week, but they each still had their own lives, his she hardly knew anything about. But even so her previous realizations came back to her, the care she felt for him earlier that seemed so eerily strong. _Did_ she feel something for him? "I've only known him for a week."

"It took me only a day to fall in love with Robert," Rousseau explained quietly, offering more of her story, "I still remember it."

Kate took this in thoughtfully, considering how she could use this while also attempting to piece togther this woman's story by staying a step ahead of the game. The wreckage around them looked like something that might come from a crash, but it was also old, some of it even rusted. Rousseau seemed to have knowledge of things, as she knew how to- and was willing to- torture someone...and suceed. She was certainly strong in her own way, and Kate had a feeling that this was a woman who could be easily undersestimated. Most importantly, however, she was alone.

"Did Robert die in the crash?" Kate asked, taking on the assumption that Rousseau had arrived on the island just as they had.

Face growing dark, the woman turned grave.

"I killed him," she replied effortlessly.

Kate didn't respond. It wasn't the answer she'd expected, and somehow she didn't think it was the answer Rousseau expected either. She spoke the statement like it was something that had been recited, something learned and eventually accepted. But still, Kate knew, there'd always be that wonder, knowing what you were capable of.

"You can't save him," Rousseau went on, nodding to Jack.

It was Kate's turn to turn dark, even more serious than before.

"Yes I can," Kate protested before she even knew why. She hadn't been _trying_ to save him, and she wasn't even sure what that could mean. Save him medically? Emotionally? But still she had said that she had. Something deep within her seemed to have intentions that Kate herself hadn't even been aware of. When would they of shown themselves? Was this something that she was supposed to be aware of, this hidden desire of some kind of unknown emotion that seemed to be drawing towards Jack? The thought scared her into silence as once again hints of her fallen walls came to surface.

A sudden roar jerked her out of her thoughts. On the floor Jack didn't budge, but Rousseau's head snapped to the jungle above them. Kate watched as she immediatly went to work, grabbing her rifle, preparing to leave.

"Where are you going?" Kate demanded, panicing a little. Being tied up was something that had never appealed to her. Claustraphobia was one of her weak points, and it seemed to have this way of reaching her even when she wasn't locked inside a dark place.

"If we're lucky," Rousseau said as she headed up, "it's one of the bears."

"Bears?" Kate replied, puzzled. Boars on an island, she could see, but bears just roaming on a deserted island? Though now she was thinking about it, the island was actually become less and less deserted than when they originally landed on it.

Rousseau ignored her, contuing to climb the steps to the land above. She showed no sign of letting either of them go, and if Rousseau was going hunting, she may be gone for hours; and Kate knew that it didn't take a doctor to know that Jack needed help, and quick. But what came out of her mouth as she opened it to speak wasn't even about that.

"Don't tell him what I said," Kate spoke up, stopping Rousseau, who turned to her. Kate looked down, trusting that Rousseau knew what she was talking about. Silently she hoped that Rousseau would agree and maybe even that the desperate comment would change Rousseau's mind about the captivity situation. It didn't, and Rousseau left, never even answering Kate's first request.

(space)

_Her hands shook as she clutched the payphone, sticking close to the wall as though it would hide her from everyone else. The busy hallway of the hospital rushed by her anyway, not a glance acknowledging her presence._

_"Kate?"_

_She jumped at Tom's sudden voice on the other line. So wrapped in her thoughts and fears, she had somehow managed to slip from reality. A sob escaped her, his voice so far away when it was once so near; the memory of his tone slipping back to her in a cool step, reminding her of what she no longer had._

_"Katie, what's wrong?" Tom asked, growing more urgent at the sound of her sobs._

_She hated this. She hated having to call him for help, breaking down like this. But she had no other choice now._

_"Can you come home?" She managed to ask, voice wavering and shaking as trembles shook her body._

_The line was quiet for a minute, and then:_

_"You know I can't."_

_Biting her lip, Kate held back another sob, tears now falling silently down her cheeks. On her wrist, the hospital band carelessly dug into her skin, put on too tightly with the rush of the E.R. She tugged at it, desperate to calm down. Her name stared up at her, as though mocking her troubles. She hated how it seemed to bound her, like chains strapping her to a wall. With it, the world seemed to stop, refusing to move until she confronted the fact that the game had ended. For the past three months she had felt so trapped within herself as she felt life force itself upon her, and she was sure that when it was all over, whenever that would be, she would feel far more relieved, free._

_"I really need you right now," Kate whispered. No matter how much she'd depend on it, or how willing she'd be able to give herself into it, being alone wouldn't work anymore. Someday it would all catch up to her, and if someone wasn't there to stop her from falling..._

_"Where are you?" Tom demanded; she could see in her mind his worried expression, his concentration as he tried to listen in for clues as to what was going on._

_"At the hospital," Kate explained, voice raspy as her throat began to turn sore from her tears. _

_"The hospital?" She heard Tom breathe, but she was no longer concentrating on their conversation. From the entrance doors to the ER, a stretcher was being rushed in. Dozens of times she had seen the same season played out that night: the desperate and injured patients either twitching or still on the stretcher while doctors around them shouting orders, the scene playing so fast that Kate couldn't see how anyone could making anything from it. But this time something was different. As the stretcher passed by her, time seemed to stop for a moment as Kate laid eyes on the patient laying unconsious, blood rushing down their face from an open wound over their eye and arms dotted with angry bruises. Shocked, horryfied, Kate hurried to get off the phone, her own concerns no longer seeming important: "I've got to go."_

_She didn't check to see if the phone had made it back on its receiver, as she was already rushing to catch up with the paramedics, Tom's confused voice on the other line sinking away with each step._

_"What happened?" Kate demanded to one of the paramedics._

_"'Mam, you can't be back here," one of them informed her calmly. How could he be so calm when sure a dire situation was in his hands?_

_Below them, the woman on the stretcher began to regain consious, blinking unsurely and defeatedly back into the world._

_"Who did this?" Kate demanded to her, despite the orders given._

_"Please-" one of the paramedics began, but was cut off by another._

_"Do you know her?" He asked her. From his voice Kate could tell that he was a good deal younger than the paramedic, though the little concern and sympathy she was being given didn't ease her:_

_"She's my mother," Kate snapped angrily, turning back down to her mom on the stretcher. They were almost to the main doors of annex rooms of the E.R. Then, she knew, she'd be forced to stay back despite any fight she had left in her. A weakness still turned within her, as she herself had a reason for being in the E.R. that night, but Kate ignored it, determined to find an answer as to why her mother was being brought in here, beaten and injured. "Who did this to you?"_

_Her mom looked up to her then, eyes distant yet as they met Kate's they seemed so close, connecting to her an answer that Kate was suddenly aware of, the horrific answer to the puzzle coming to her in a realization that made her stop. The paramedics rushed passed her, only the younger one bothering to get back to her:_

_"I'll get back with you soon!" He assured her, rushing along as more doctors arrived on the scene, leaving Kate to stand there, stunned. _

_Anger pased over her first. The fact that this had happened to a woman who was, truthfully, so innocent and undeserving to such harsh treatment. But then another realization broke through, as Kate realized another secret would come out that night. Things would never be the same, if the right things were said to the right people, and though this should give her hope that things might finally change for the better of them with hope, Kate couldn't help but to have the sick feeling that nothing would ever change, no matter what secrets were told._

(space)

Her skin was growing raw underneath the chains, and Kate found herself constantly twitching to escape. At first she theorized to remain calm, as though her stillnees would let her suddenly slip away. Rousseau still hadn't come back, and it must've been a half an hour. Long enough to where Jack's drug should've been wearing off.

"Jack!" Kate hissed to his form on the floor. No answer. "Jack!" Now, as Rousseau had surprisingly left him unbound, Jack could help them, or at least help her help them by unchaining her. Desperate, Kate called for him again. "Jack! Jack, wake up!"

Her ears were in a few places at once, listening for both a groan of consious coming from Jack and the shuffling of feet that would come from Rousseau. Despite Rousseau's one-woman hunting party, they needed to act fast, or at least as quickly as possible.

A groan broke the silence of the room like a sudden light in a dark tunnel, a signal of hope that sent her sighing in relief. Gasps of pain followed, and Kate was forced to watch helplessly as Jack attempted to regain conscious. He was breathing in a heavy panic, words attempting and failing to form until he was finally able to speak:

"I can't move," Jack announced, sounding paniced and terrified.

"You're just in shock," Kate assured him hurridly, "you're numb."

On the floor, Jack managed to roll himself over with one motion, landing with a thud on his back. She watched as he stared to the ceiling, trying to make sense of what he was being welcomed back to, of what happened.

"Jack, she's gone," Kate told him urgently. He looked to her, and she stopped as his eyes met hers, sitting aside whatever pain he felt as he took this in. "You've got to help me."

His eyes trailed then to the chains that bound there, and he just lay there for a moment, taking everything in. Every passing moment was wasting time, Kate hated to admit; they had to get out of here. At last Jack reached up, grabbing onto the table Rousseau was sitting at earlier for support. Slowly but surely he lifted himself up, grunting as his limps unfolded.

"The key's under the music box," Kate instructed. Just before Rousseau left Kate saw her hide it underneath her. It almost seemed like an act of kindness, like she had considered the two were she to not, for whatever reason, be able to make it back.

His hand falling onto the desk with a force that seemed to shake the room, he struggled to grasp the key, gasping as his hands scratched against the wood of the table. With effort he then attempted to walk towards the cot, evetually just falling onto it, grabbing onto one of the post above it to lift himself back up. Kate looked away as he fiddled with the lock, missing it twice before bringing the two together, unlatching the chains. Despite his weakness, he mangaed to catch Kate before that side of her fell, his arm cold against the small of her back as he struggled to support her.

"I'll get the other one," Kate offered, already reaching for the key.

"I've got it," Jack protested, closing his fist around the key. Reaching over her with his free hand, the other still holding the fallen side of her up, Jack reached for the other chain but missed quite a few times.

"Here," Kate declared, taking the key from him before he could argue, his hand slipping from his hold on her as she turned away, unlocking herself with ease. She fell to the bare cot, breathing a sigh of relief as she was free. Rubbing her wrist together, Kate cringed at the scars made there, but Jack's own bruised hand beside her brought her back. She smiled up at him before picking herself off the cot, sitting beside him as Jack had to sit down in exhaustion.

For a moment they sat in silence, both grateful for the peace. His damp shirt brushed against her as he managed to shift weight, sending her shivering at the thought of what they- he- had just been through. She hated it when she had to watch someone so innocent like Jack be forced through this kind of trauma, as she had many times.

"I'm just a doctor," Jack commented, as though reading her mind. Looking around the room, eyes trailing over at the chains that had, at one time, bound them each, Jack shook his head in disbelief. "I shouldn't be here."

It wasn't a selfish opinion but the truth. What reason was there to put someone like himself in such a situation? There didn't seem to be a reason. Not yet.

"I know," Kate agreed. She paused, and then: "That's why we have to get out of here."

"Are you okay?" Jack suddenly asked, ignoring her as he turned towards her.

She wasn't sure what the truthful answer would be. Phsyically, she couldn't complain. But emotionally...the memories brought up by the experience seemed so suddenly brought back to her that Kate wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with them, how she was supposed to react. Which was why she was so determined to move past this, to get out. But she wasn't sure she could tell him that.

"Yeah," she said, managing a small smile, "I'm fine."

Her answer produced the smallest of smiles from Jack's lips, though quickly disaperating with the reality of where they were and what they had to do. In at least his condition, they were in position to try to escape. With no clue as to where they were, or even what time of day it was, it would be taking a major risk by trying to get back. Still, though, it had to be done.

"Okay, I'm good," Jack announced, lifting himself off the cot with a trembling effort. Kate grabbed his arm to steady him, eyeing Jack when he turned to her in question. Finally accepting her help, they made their way to the exit.

"Ready?" Kate asked him when they reached the steps to the jungle.

Jack nodded, struggling with his balance as he forced himself up each step. Leading the way, Kate pushed opened the gate, sunlight instantly hitting their faces. As Jack winced she realized just how long he had been down there, even before she herself arrived. Being the first to reach land, Kate had to pull Jack up after her, both of them falling to a heap on the jungle floor, finally free. Even as her back hit the jungle floor she smiled, Jack mirroring her emotions.

"Let's get out of here," Kate suggested. She assumed the idea was mutual, but Jack was looking past her to a figure standing in a nearby shadow: Rousseau. Scrambling to their feet to lessen any disadvantage, Kate found herself supporting Jack's weight once again as he leaned against her instinctivly, his weight making hers struggle to keep away from the ground.

"Please," Kate attempted, "he needs help."

Rousseau gave Jack a thoughtful look before saying:

"Do you have supplies at your camp?"

She assumed she meant medical supplies. Kate almost smiled, thinking of how insistant Jack had been about organizing and shorting them out, knowing how handy that would be now.

"Yeah," Kate replied, nodding as she lifted Jack off of her a little to secure her hold on him. He didn't respond, just stared at Rousseau, expression blank as though his real feelings were being forced to remain hidden.

"Then he'll be fine," Rousseau said, a little less than assuringly.

A moment passed, and as the silence drew on Kate realized that they may actually get out of this. Rousseau wasn't necessarily stopping them; she hardly looked alert. It was as though she had come to accept her failure, and Kate actually felt bad for her then, considering what that failure was.

"I'm sorry we don't know where your child is," Kate offered.

The comment sparked interest in Rousseau.

"How did you know?" Rousseau asked, curious. She had never told them who Alex was herself.

Smiling sadly, Kate looked down.

"I just do."

(space)

The walk back was harder than they thought, if possible. Neither of them had a clue about where they were, and they had no path to follow. Rousseau was able to offer them a rough direction of where they were headed, but with Kate supporting Jack's weight and Jack constantly trying to swerve in and out of conscious, he was sure that they had gone off path at least twice. He was losing energy quickly, and though numb before, the pain was beginning to come back now. In agonizing shots it would hit him, rushing through his body at a speed that sent him repeatedly to the ground.

"Hold on," he had to say at least, shoving Kate's arm off of him, relieving her of his weight as he lowered himself to the ground, collasping on the trail they were on. Kate sat down with him, eyeing him with concern. He'd never wished harder for water, despite the damp drips that still sank through his shirt.

"We should look for a river," Kate suggested, reading the dehydration that he was suffering clearly.

"No," Jack protested, shaking his head, "it'll get dark soon. We've got to keep going." And there was a fact that after that fall yesterday, he wasn't too keen on rivers...though he would've loved some water right now.

"Maybe I can go ahead," Kate said, "get some water, some blankets." Once again, Jack shook his head. He just wanted to get back, to be able to lie down and just sleep- not spend the night out in the jungle. "You're in no condition to walk, Jack." He was aware of this, but again he protested. If it were anyone else, he knew, he might be saying the same things, but right now the jungle was the last place he wanted to be. What if he started seeing the visions of his father again?

"I just want to-"

A loud roar cut him off. Their heads jerked towards the frightening sound instinctivly, looking around for the source, though neither knew what they were expecting to see. A colorful dragon-type creature? Maybe something with giant teeth and claws?

_There's no such thing as monsters,_ Jack reminded himself. But something did eat the pilot. Something was out there...and it was heading right towards them.

"Come on," Kate instructed before he could, pulling him unwillingly off the ground.

Jack looked to the jungle before she could pull him along, laying eyes on a black swirl that swam through the trees parallel to him. Stunned, Jack didn't move, not until she pushed him to go. Maybe he was crazy. But Kate was clearly seeing this too...the thought alone made him run faster, catching up and leading ahead despite his protesting legs that relucantly carried him along.

Her hand clutched to his desperately as he literally pulled her along. They couldn't afford to fall behind. The ground came and went underneath them, and the only thing around them was a hazy darkness. Any moment he'd drop. He knew it. Shivers still ran up and down his spine, his entire body was still shaking, making it that much more difficult to flee from death...again. A sudden cry escaped behind him, and Jack's hand closed even more tightly around Kate's sweaty palms.

"Jack!"

He stopped at her voice, desperate, broken, shaky. So unlike Kate's true tone. She stumbled into him at the abrupt stillness. Even the air around them, for that split second, was dead. And then they saw it. The black thing swirled around them in a taunting dance. She shook beneath his hold, clutching his hand frantically for some kind of notion of safety. They stepped in circles, no where to go. Death was looming in a true darkness around them, and they were stuck within it.

The earth changed around them in slow frames, becoming gray, then dark, then just blackness. They couldn't see, and both were too terrified to think to close their eyes. Jack tried to move but something held him back, shoving his feet back in position as though there were a wall that came with the black thing. A sound like a film projector clicked on then, and the black thing was turning gray, though not for a way out.

Pictures swarmed around them. At first Jack couldn't make out anything, but as his eyes adjusted to the swirls he recognized that the pictures weren't pictures at all...they were memories. Ones of his dad, of Julia, of Sarah...memories rushed back to him then like he really was watching a film, a home movie made just for him. He could hardly make out Kate's face, but from the looks of it she was experiencing the same thing.

Suddenly the images changed. They became unrecognizable, and Jack was certain they weren't memories. The frames passed around him, showing Jack images of himself and a girl that looked eerily like...Kate? In some she was happy, smiling, though in one she was crying, dark tears outlined beneath her eyes. But the next struck him most. They were close together, leaning towards each other almost like they were about to...kiss.

With the realization there was a jolting noise, just like the tape of a film disfunctioning. The pictures disolved around them in jerky zigzags, and soon they were back in the jungle, the black thing out of sight. Silence loomed between them, both unsure of what to say, of what to think. How the hell was he supposed to react to something like that? And that last picture...what was that about? As he finally turned towards her, Jack was sure that Kate was thinking the same thing. She had seen it too.

"Did you see that?" She asked him anyway.

Jack nodded.

"Yeah."

Out of nowhere the ground slipped from underneath him then, his foot sliding as he fell to the ground. He would've just hung there on the slope of the hill, had it not been for Kate who tried to catch him, only sending herself falling with him, knocking into him with a force that sent the both of them tumbling down the hill. He grabbed onto her hands instinctivly, latched to her as the ground came and went underneath them, turning their world in dizzy circles. He cursed himself for making the same mistake twice, but he hardly had time for punishment as Kate gave a sudden cry above him. Palms slipping out of his, Kate flew over him, landing with a sickening thud down below as Jack managed to grab onto a branch to stop himself.

Mind still spinning, Jack searched for Kate, breathing heavily in pain and fear. His previously ankle throbbed with pain as it mixed with its new injury; he was sure he'd broken it, but Jack could only hold onto the bone in comfort for a moment: he'd spotted Kate's body a few feet down, laying still at the foot of a tree. In horror he obvserved from afar a branch that seemed to be digging into her side, blood already dripping out of the wound.

Ignoring his own injuries, Jack lowered himself down to her, scooting slowly, trying not to fall again. Once he reached her he immediately felt for a pulse, breathing a heavy sigh of relief when he found one. Placing a hand against the bleeding wound, Jack carefully turned her face towards him. Dirt and leaves covered the natural beauty of Kate's features, a red scratch covering her eyebrow. Jack was about to reach up to wipe some spare blood away when a gasp came from beneath him, and Kate woke up. Puzzled, she looked around, eyes dancing to meet Jack's.

"It's okay," he assured her, vaguely remembering hearing a simular assurance being said to him eariler from Kate.

She must've felt his hand against her skin, as she then turned to the wound at her side.

"It's fine," he explained. "Just a little rip."

She didn't seemed to assured, bringing her own hand up to feel around the torn skin.

"Will it need stitches?" She inquired, fear leaking out of her voice. A sad smile escaped him, remembering the times she had already had to help him. Even then, with his life in her hands, Kate hadn't seemed afraid at all, and it was almost relieving to know there was that emotion in her. The island seemed to demand certain characterstics, such as pain and fear, to be shown even if one wasn't used to displaying such emotion. Knowing how easily the two feelings had escaped from where they were hidden in himself, now seeing Kate(even a stronger person, Jack often thought, than himself) showing off those same emotions eased the side of him that feared the island was too quickly gaining its control over him.

"I think you're good," he assured her.

Laying her head to the ground, resting there, Kate offered him a smile of relief, closing her eyes, signifying a much needed rest.

(space)

"I'm thinking of something that's purple," Jack began, proudly announcing his question.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"It's your shirt again," Kate replied before announcing: "I hate this game."

So I-Spy wasn't the entertainment of the year, but it wasn't like they had a television in front of them.

"I'm okay now," Kate insisted, "we can go."

"We should rest," Jack said for the dozenth time, though it was hypocritical.

"Yeah," Kate remarked sarcastically, "and you were so ready to take a nap before."

Jack ignored the comment. Now that Kate was hurt, the importance of taking it slow was more realistic now. He himself was beginning to feel at least the slightest bit better: the shivers had finally stopped and he wasn't as cold, though his head felt like a brick had been built onto his neck and not skin and bone. They would need water soon, Jack knew, but rest seemed like a welcoming idea to him now.

"How's the side?" He inquired, glancing down to the scarred wound on Kate's skin. A piece of his shirt he had sacrificed for the cause was being held to it by her arm, though it was no longer drastically bleeding.

"It's _fine_," Kate reminded him. "And we've got to get back before dark."

"I know."

Jack grew quiet then, something about the statement silencing him. He thought back then to Rousseau, to her missing child and the determination she had to find it. Despite his condition while with her, Jack had been able to make a few observations about her, including her queit demeanor, as though solitary was a natural part of her. One didn't become that way in a world as big as their own, not so obviously anyway.

"I don't think she was lying," Jack commented quietly. Kate looked at him, and Jack explained. "She says she's been here for sixteen years."

"Sixteen years?" Kate repeated softly.

Jack nodded, and said again:

"I know."

Sixteen years on this island, in this jungle, with that monster. What had driven her into hiding, off the beaches and away from the fresh air? Better yet, what had driven her underground, made her so parinoid as to set traps and torture? It was obvious that Rousseau knew far more about the island than they did, and the jungle clearly still held secrets Jack wasn't sure he wanted to know. One question in particular stood out to him, making him reconisider their rest in the jungle each time it came back to mind.

"And I was thinking," Jack began, "if we didn't take her child... then who did?"

He turned to Kate, meeting her eyes with the potential terryfing curiosity the question reflected.

(space)

The sky was growing dark as they finally reached the beach. Blue and purple shades of sky welcomed them back to a serene setting of sand and ocean, the tragic event that had happened their leaving their minds as Jack and Kate took in the calm surrounding.

"Why do I feel like I'm coming home?" Kate wondered outloud, a curious smile playing on her lips.

Looking around at the camp they had made for themselves there, the weeks worth of memories still in mind, and taking in the feeling of safety that was coming with it, Jack had to smile as well.

"I was just thinking the same thing."

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	11. The One To Get Away

On An Island

Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer: **"The One To Get Away" comes from the title of the first chapter of the wonderful book _The Bean Trees_, which is by Barbara Kingsolver. "The Blower's Daughter" is a song by Damien Rice.

**Author's Note: **If you happen to not remember much about Julia, you may want to go back and read the flashbacks in chapter eight to understand why her character is(was, and will be- at least in flashback tense) so important(especially to Jack).

**Warnings: **Child abuse.

**Chapter Eleven:** The One To Get Away

He had to smile as his eyes fluttered open, welcoming him to the crisp air of the cool morning. The night had been unpredictably peaceful, and all he had to concentrate on was falling asleep. Dreams unusually calm, Jack found himself grateful for the overall peace he had to experience after the recent island trauma. Kate's own smile greeted him to his right; like Jack she was laying on one of the few seats they had salvaged from the airplane. Sighing, he stretched, staring vacantly to the purple sky above him, the blanket he'd been practically clinging to since the incident with Rousseau slipping from his shoulders.

"You look happy," Kate commented, amused.

Jack grinned.

"Yeah," Jack replied, "I don't have to work today."

He stared up at the sky a moment longer, contemplating getting up. With his body still sore from the electroshock and his ankle still bruised and hurt as well, remaining in exactly this position, laying and staring up at the sky all day, seemed like a very welcoming idea.

"What're you going to do today?" Kate asked him curiously, sitting up a little from where she lay.

"I have to do something?" Jack said lightly with a snort.

"It's been five days," Kate replied with a grin, "I'm going crazy."

It was true, the morning marked a little over four and a half days since they had returned from Rousseau's camp. They hadn't heard so much as a footstep from the woman, and personally, Jack would've been happy if he never had to see her again...for now, at least.

"It's not like we've been doing nothing," Jack lied defensively.

A smile still on her face, Kate replied:

"And what have we done?"

"We..." going along with the joke, Jack contemplated her question, "we learned to play Backgammon."

That much was true as well...sort of. One thing they hadn't expected to find in the luggage was the board game, an older edition from what Jack was used to seeing in stores.

"Right," Kate smirked, "you just sit and stare at the board until you get too frustated with figuring how to play."

"Sorry," Jack teased, "_Operation_'s more of my thing."

Rolling her eyes, Kate grinned and looked away. His eyes lingered on her sudden distant expression, attempting to read it. The wound on Kate's side hadn't been as bad as he originally thought, but she had been all too willing to sit with him for five days while his ankle healed. It wouldn't of been as bad if he had been able to take care of it soon after he injured it, but, of course, that wasn't the case. For five days he'd hardly left his seat, feeling too mentally and phsyically exhausted to move for very long. He hated feeling so weak, but even attempting to sit up, as he was doing now, would send him collasping back onto the recliner. Sighing in frustration, Jack lifted himself up again, grabbing onto the side of the seat to help balance himself. He concentrated on a spot in the sand, letting his spinning mind catch up with what was going on. Then, wincing slightly in pain, Jack reached for one of his shoes, which lay on the ground amongst a collection of bottled water, unread books, leftovers from whatever his stomach could handle, and a unfinished Backgammon game. Kate was watching him now, sympathetic.

"Still shaking?" She asked quietly.

"A little," Jack admitted. It was like most of the time, his body was still back in Rousseau's hut, limply dangling above the cot. Just the idea made him shiver.

With dread, Jack looked to the jungle, thinking of the trip he would need to take to the caves.

"There's that wheelchair we found in the wreckage," Kate suggested, seeming to have read his mind.

Jack sighed. He hated to have to resort to desperate needs, but even he knew that making the trip would be difficult. Would this have happened back home, more than likely doctors would've wanted to keep him in the hospital for multiple days. Even now, the thought of walking on his hurt ankle filled him with depressed anxiety. Just moving the muscle the slightest inch sent fiery shots of pain up his leg.

"Yeah," Jack said with a sigh, "get that."

----

Jack stared to the floor as he let himself roll back and forth in the wheelchair, the mist from the waterfall nearby cooling the his sunburnt neck. For the heck of it he spun the chair around, leaning back a little on the wheels.

"If you ask me you're having a little too much fun with that," Kate teased, suddenly appearing in the entrance to the caves.

Slightly embarrased, Jack sat the chair back on the ground and leaned down to a water bottle he had been refilling.

"Just getting used to it," Jack said.

"Well, you're probably having more fun in it than the person who had it first did," Kate reasoned. Her voice fell sadly mid-sentence, knowing that person was now gone. The convience to him now that the person was dead shook Jack himself, but by now they were being forced to get used to taking advantage of what the dead left behind, it becoming necessary that they'd use any clothes, medical supplies, or every day necessasities they could find in the wreckage, rather they were comfortable with it or not.

"I'm sorta stuck down here," Jack sighed, "it'd be too much of an inconvience to try and move this thing from here to the beach."

Kate smirked a little.

"Living at the caves," she began sadly, "it's what you wanted."

Jack smiled grimly.

"Thanks for that," he retorted sarcastically. He looked up at Kate, still in the same place she was when she entered. "Did you need something?"

A thoughtful smile spread across Kate's face.

"Actually..."

----

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Jack complained, grinning despite his disbelief towards Kate.

"Believe it or not," Kate began, "sitting around all day isn't going to help that ankle get better."

Flashing a grin to him, Kate shifted underneath his weight she was supporting as she helped Jack walk through the jungle.

"And what do you know about broken ankles?" Jack challenged playfully.

Kate smiled back, though not as strongly as before. Jack didn't miss a beat, but he decided not to push it.

"Sorry," Jack replied lightly.

"What's gotten into lately, anyway?" Kate replied, half-serious, mostly joking. "You're actually acting...happy."

Jack shrugged thoughtfully.

"Over ten days without doing a major surgery-"

"Save the marshal," Kate commented with him in unison.

"And even before that," Jack went on, "four days, eight hours, and fifteen minutes."

"Okay," Kate said pointly, "that's enough painkillers for you-" eyeing the jungle, suddenly feeling as though someone were watching them, Kate went on, less enthusiastic, "I should've known. It's not like we have anything to be happy about on this island. Especially you."

"'Especially me?'" Jack replied curiously. When Kate didn't answer, Jack glanced around to where her eyes were still wondering amongst the trees of the jungle, as though looking for something. "But this place is pretty crazy."

"I never said it was crazy," Kate defended. "What makes you say it's crazy?"

Jack looked at her in surprise. He studied her for half a second, wondering what the hell could've possessed her into being defensive of this place.

"Oh, I dunno," Jack began obviously, "we're trapped on an island with polar bears, a monster, a French woman who tortured us...oh, and the ghost of my father."

"That's only four things," Kate pointed out with a playful smile, "you need five to be able to call this place crazy."

Stopping, Jack caught his breath a moment, considering her reply. As he held a hand to her shoulder for support, Jack thought back to everything they had been through on the island. It hadn't been two weeks, yet Jack felt like he'd already been through the most insane year of his life. But one thing in particular had always stood out to him, the one thing that almost topped polar bears and man-eating monsters.

"I was in a plane crash with over a hundred people," Jack began, more serious now. The still jungle around them seemed to add to the moment, taking their break as well to listen to Jack's statement. "And the only people who survived were me...and you." He paused, then smiled at how incredulous that sounded. "Sounds crazy to me."

He met Kate's eyes briefly before she looked down, smiling sadly.

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, "sounds crazy."

Offering him another smile, Kate hardly let a moment slip by before sliding her arm around his shoulders, continuing to help him walk as they made their way down the path once more. In his mind, Jack questioned Kate's pause at his answer, the sad reaction to what, to him, seemed like the ultimate truth. They were the only two who survived that crashed. Out of all the insane factors to be considered- the days that led up to the crash, or even whatever the cause of the crash in the first place- that fact seemed to be the one to suggest to him that there might be some bigger reason for all this. An actual explanation for why he and Kate survived that crash. Like destiny. Like fate.

Shaking himself out of it, Jack forced himself away from his thoughts. Fate. Now he was beginning to sound like his father. He wasn't making excuses for himself, but he was making excuses for reason.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Jack inquired.

Kate grinned.

"You'll see," Kate teased, "it should be right up here."

She pulled him along as she picked her way through some trees, breaking their original pathway.

"Yeah," Kate nodded, satisfied, "it's right up here."

At that moment, Jack began to hear something that wasn't a familar jungle sound, but he had heard it before on the island. A waterfall. And sure enough, as they stepped through the jungle ahead, Jack soon found himself face to face with not only a waterfall, but a lanscape complete with a lagoon.

"This is it," Kate announced proudly, showing off her discovery as though it was an award-winning piece of artwork. And it was beautiful. But...

"You brought me out here to go for a swim?" Jack inquired, quizzical.

"Yeah" Kate replied drastically, rolling her eyes. "That would be why I told you to wear something to swim in." Her eyes narrowed. "You _did_ wear something you could swim in?"

"Yeah," Jack confessed, blushing madly at Kate's "motherly" tone.

"Good," Kate said, grinning, "trust me, the whole swimming in clothes thing isn't as fun as it sounds."

"But desperate times call for desperate measures," Jack pointed out.

Kate's grinned turned grew wilder, practically wicked.

"Depends on what you mean by 'desperate measures'."

Jack stared at her blankly, finding it hard to match Kate's amusement in the, quite frankly, awkward moment.

"Come on," Kate said, already ready to go in a black bikini she had been wearing underneath her clothes. Without hesitation, Kate dived gracefully into the pool, disapearing momentarily underwater before her head appeared over the surface.

"Seriously," Jack went on, though his red cheeks denied any sign of seriousness within him, "you don't know what's down there."

"You didn't know where the cable went, but you still followed it," Kate pointed out confidently.

Jack sighed. If his luck had any part in this, this would end with Kate pushing him into the pool, despite the jeans, shirt, and shoes he was wearing. It wasn't even that big of a deal either- it was just swimming.

Then why the hell did he feel so nervous?

"Fine," Jack agreed relucantly.

"Good," Kate said again, smiling to herself, "this fun thing could really work out for you, you know."

Jack rolled his eyes.

Unfortuently for him, Jack hadn't been planning to join the Olympic swim team when he was picking and chosing what to keep from the wreckage, and the only half-decent thing he could find to swim in(since he didn't know how literal Kate meant when she said to find something he could swim in) was, without a doubt, the most embarrasing- and most red- swim trunks he had ever seen; they were even topped with a random pattern of white palm trees. He honestly did not want to know who the shorts belonged to before the crash, even after feeling guilty for laughing at the dead's taste in clothes. And Kate was laughing as well.

"That's the best you could find?" Kate smirked, amused, as she tread the water she was wading in.

"You're lucky," Jack teased, hiding the still-standing, humiliating, embarrasment of the moment, "I almost had to come out here in Speedos."

"At least they're not red," Kate pointed out, grinning, "honestly, Jack, I thought we didn't want to draw attention to ourselves out here."

Kate was right. It was funny: before the incident with Danille, they were desperate to find any source of help. Now it seemed like they were truly hiding, and deep down, truly scared.

"You're the one who dived headfirst into that thing," Jack said, unharmed.

"Come on," Kate urged again, sounding more like she was pleading than asking.

"I'll sit on the side," Jack proposed, adding in explanation: "my ankle."

Even though the injury was enough to not swim, Jack could admit to only himself that it wasn't the only reason he was relucant to jump into the pool. There was just an unexplainable sickening nerve that was overtaking him, making him feel practically terrified, preventing him from giving the slightest thought to stepping into the pool.

"Fine," Kate said, rolling her eyes, "you won't last, though."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Why's that?"

"You're a guy."

Kate grinned. In one quick movement she flipped backwards, landing, once again, gracefully back into the water.

"So at what point in your life did you join the synchronized swim team?" Jack teased. "Was that before or while you were on the run?"

Shaking her head at the question, Kate ignored him and began swamming towards a cliff of rocks in the back of the lagoon. Jack watched as she emerged from the water, it taking a moment for him to realize what she was doing.

"Kate?" Jack asked uncertainly as she began climbing the rocks.

"Yeah?" Kate shouted back down to him casually as she continued climbing.

"You're not really going to jump from there, are you?" He inquired, worried. Personally he had never been a big fan of heights himself, and he didn't feel comfortable sitting back while the girl he just saved from drowning a couple of days ago dived into a lagoon. He told himself not to be so concerned, but there was just this mindset he had that immediately would jump to the first bad conclusion he could think of. And he didn't want to think about the bad conclusion he was coming up with now.

"Yeah," Kate said again. It wasn't a question. Already she was at the top, ready to dive back down to the bottom.

"You don't know how shallow it is down there!" Jack pointed out, calling up to her.

"Then why don't you catch me?" Kate shot back.

With that Kate dove, landing arms and head first into the lagoon. The dive, like her other, was graceful enough, landing her with a soft splash into the water; but a few seconds later she had yet to come up from the water. Bending over the edge a little, Jack tried to make out her figure underneath the dark lagoon, but saw nothing but a muggy bottom.

"Kate?" He called to the water. There was no answer. "Kate?"

His stomach began to knot as he thought back to her hand waving desperately over the water's surface just days before, her screams still ringing in his ear. He studied the water another moment before finally jumping in himself.

Cold, greenish water immediately engulfed him, reminding him very much of what little he could remember of falling into the river. He shuddered at the thought, but he didn't let himself think on it as he went straight to searching for Kate. He could hardly see; the water was as dirty as it was cold. He couldn't see how Kate could stand to swim in it. Maybe she had learned her lesson.

Jack shook his head as much as the water would let him and forced the thought away. Soon he had to come up for air, gasping for breath as he took in some of the jungle air before heading back down under. But as he was diving back in, a shadow appeared from below him, rising in a steady diagonal angle in front of him. He frowned, but he had little time to wonder: Kate's head popped up from below the surface, a mischevious grin on her face that was now only inches from him.

"Scared?" She teased.

A grateful sigh of relief escaped him before he could get to his accusations.

"That wasn't funny, Kate!" Jack protested. His leg was shaking in pain, his body trembling with the cold.

Kate grinned.

"Come on."

She dove back down into the water. Jack sighed, looking around the jungle, though he knew there was no way out of this now. His nerves would just have to go with the dive. Letting himself sink back into the pool, Jack relucantly followed Kate as she swam through the muggy water. Every now and then his ankle would hiss in pain, but he was determined to ignore it, concentrating solely on Kate's strokes and movements as she pushed her way through the lagoon. But just as he was easing into the swim, Kate was shooting up towards surface before he could react.

"What?" He questioned, having followed her.

Kate was completely serious now, looking unsure, like she couldn't believe what she was about to tell him.

"I think I saw something down there," she explained. With that she dove back into the water, and Jack followed her, curious, until he saw what she was seeing: bodies. Dead bodies. Slowly deteriorating, the bodies were strapped to what looked like seats from an airplane, and in between them sat a silver case that Kate was already wedging loose. Jack moved to help her without question, and in seconds the case was in Kate's hands and she was swimming back to the top.

"You got it?" He asked her as she moved towards the shore of the lagoon.

"Yeah," she nodded, catching her breath as they climbed out of the pool.

Once on land, Jack reached for his shirt, wiping it over his wet face as he moved to where Kate was leaning over the case, already looking oblivous to everything around her.

"Think they were from our plane?" Jack wondered outloud, partially in curiousity, partially in attempts to keep Kate's mind in the present. He wanted to know what she was thinking, having the subconsious feeling that she was keeping something from him.

"I know they were." Kate looked up at him, meeting his eyes, as though planning to test his reaction. "It's my case."

Jack stared at her, and their eyes locked to each other's as he took this in. The possibilities. What was in the case could be the key to the secrets Kate held: her past, her crimes. But with that, everything would also be brought back. A chain would be broken unfairly in this ultimate second chance of hers, placing them a step back from where they had reached since their starting point.

Rested on a rock, Kate studied the case, turning it over. Jack realized what she must've been looking for.

"You got a key?" Jack asked her, tone much lighter than what the case was calling for.

Kate paused, considering the question. Jack studied her as she did, still taking in the abrupt change of the moment. Just minutes ago Kate was more thrilled than she had been half their stay on the island, and now she looked nearly...afraid. Solemn. Caught.

At last Kate shook her head. Then she looked up at him.

"Mind if I keep it?"

The question caught him off guard, and Jack answered without thought:

"It's your case," he pointed out, which was true. Who was he to force her to give it up?

"Thanks," she replied, hurried and hardly sincere. Standing up, Kate kept the case safetly in hand as she reached for her jeans. "We'll get eaten up out here like this. We should go."

Jack decided it wasn't the best time to point out her sudden concern in safety. Instead he simply agreed, preparing to go as well. Once they were ready to take their seperate paths, as Kate was apparently heading back towards the beach, Jack stopped for a moment, watching as Kate walked away, the case still swinging securely in her hands, guarded by an obvious subconsious effort by Kate. And as the case continued to swing as her figure disapeared amongst the jungle, Jack couldn't help but to wonder what the case itself guarded.

----

She vaguely heard Jack wince as he unwrapped the bandaged that firmly secured his hurt ankle. Glancing towards him, Kate eyed the dried blood that covered the wound, watching as he cleaned some of the blood off before replacing the bandage. Around them the day was settling in, and the morning's cool air would've been enough to put her asleep, had it not been from the case that sat before her, closed and locked. Forbidden.

"Does it hurt?" She asked him quietly, though knowing it was a stupid question.

Jack nodded a little but didn't reply. Forced back into silence, Kate turned back to her case. She studied it for the upteenth time, turning it over and over and staring down into the keyhole: her only real hope of getting into it.

"Too bad you don't have a key," Jack commented.

Kate looked up, staring across from her to the sea. But there was a key. She chose to lie about it on instinct, but did she really have to? She was pretty sure that, for the most part, she had earned Jack's trust. The thought made the idea of using him like this didn't appeal to her any less, making the idea seem sickening in its essence, but she had to go about this wisely. She had to be careful. Because even if Jack could trust her, she wasn't fully certain that she could trust Jack. Trust that he wouldn't turn his back on her the moment he was reminded of who she really was. The moment he knew the truth.

"Actually," Kate said quietly, beginning her confession, "there is a key."

Jack looked at her. Swallowing, Kate begged that, somehow, he could forgive her for this.

----

_She hated the silence of dinnertime. Honestly, it was a wonder how they all still managed to eat together, sitting at the dinner table, passing around bowls of food and butter. Like they were a family. They never talked, just eating as they listened to the scratch or cling of a fork against a plate, the small thud as a glass was set down. Head rested in her hand, Kate half-heartedly fingured the potatoes on her plate, the entire helping she had first scooped out still there._

_"You're quiet," Wayne commented, sounding more amused than concerned as his words slurred together. She didn't respond. "Funny, for the passed two months you haven't been able to keep your mouth shut, stuffing your face with food like you're some hungry mut."_

_"Leave her alone, Wayne," her mother scolded sympathetically, glancing in concern to her daughter._

_Lowering her eyes, Kate tried to hide herself from the gaze. It'd been two days since she left the hospital. Two days since she'd eaten, slept. Her mother apparently didn't remember seeing her there, even though Kate had sat while she waited for her mother to wake up. Then, making excuses as to why she was in the hospital in the first place, Kate ran, keeping with her the secret she swore would never get out._

_"I'm not hungry," Kate said, pushing her plate away as she'd done the past two nights._

_"'Course you're not," Wayne snorted. He looked to her mother and then back to Kate in turn. "The damn kid can't appreciate anything. We keep you alive, and you just push us away."_

_Kate stiffened as she stood up, determined not to let her anger show. Wayne bragged about himself like he had actually done something that benifited her. The only thing he did that benifited her was pass out every night._

_"You want me to get the dishes, Ma?" Kate offered, ignoring Wayne's comment._

_She wasn't not eating just to not eat, or not eating just to not sleep, or spending her days staring into the distance for the sake of doing nothing. She was wondering. Waiting. Seeing if there was any point in all of this. She just felt so cheated out of her life that now Kate was simply waiting around, waiting for it to come to mean something._

_"I can get it," her mother protested, lowering the dish Kate had in her hand back down to the table._

_"Let the girl do something," Wayne argued, "it may just be the most useful thing she does all week."_

_Her hand shook as the dish slipped slowly from her fingers to the table. It was all she could do not to fight back, which is what she wanted to do most. If she faught back, if she began to argue and if her mother stepped in...they'd simply be going in circles. And Kate was determined to break that circle. _

_"Why don't you go get the mail?" Diane suggested._

_"You didn't check it again?" Wayne snapped, his amused voice roughly turning into unnecessary fury. "No wonder the damn electric company's calling every few minutes."_

_"I forgot to pay the bill," Diane whispered quietly, looking to the table._

_Kate held her breath, staring at her mother and avoiding Wayne's angry glare._

_"How the hell do you 'forget' to pay the bill?" Wayne demanded dryly._

_Diane blushed nervously, staring so deeply into the floor that Kate was sure it would suddenly fall apart._

_"She was in the hospital!" Kate shot, answering for her mother as she glared at Wayne. It sickened her how he tried to have his hold over her mother, over the both of them. And it sickened her how her mother let him._

_ "And where were you?" Wayne retorted. "Out in the fields with your damn head in the clouds?" She could say that she hated Wayne like this more than any other way. He wasn't drunk enough to be completely oblivous to reality, but he was drunk enough to be angry at it. And he would take it out on everyone. "If you're going to act so damn self-centered, why don't you just run off like your sister did? Leave us behind because all you care about is yourself."_

_"She did what was best for her!" Kate cried. Anger rushed through her at Wayne's refusal to see the truth. "You only brought her down...she ran to get away from you!"_

_"Hell, I'm surprised you didn't follow in her footsteps," Wayne went on, ignoring her._

_"Leave her alone, Wayne," her mother cut in, her exhausted demeanor interrupting her concern and anger._

_"-follow that boyfriend of yours to God knows where and get yourself pregnant," Wayne continued. Kate stiffined. There was no way he could know...he _couldn't_ know._

_"Did you say you wanted me to get the mail, Mom?" Kate interrupted, determined to change the course of the conversation. The last thing Kate wanted was for Wayne to find out that the disgusted opinion he had about her was true. Just the fact that it had come true made Kate herself disgusted, disgusted that she let this happen. _

_"I left something at work," her mother announced softly. It was a lie, Kate could see right through it. But she wasn't about to interrupt. The more Diane was away from Wayne, the safer Kate felt for her._

_"Go ahead and run out!" Wayne called after them as Kate grabbed her jacket, leading her mother out the door. He shouted something else but they didn't hear it, slamming the door, leaving behind Wayne and the dirty dishes on the table._

_Her feet pounded on the wood as she forefully ran down the steps, well into the yard before her mother could even get her hand on the porch railing._

_"Want me to drive you somewhere?" Diane offered, calling out to her._

_Kate shook her head. She would walk. It did her good, a cheap way to blow off her steam, though she was admittedly saving up money for a motorcycle. She'd always dreamed of having one, dreamed of being able to ride down a never-ending highway, going wherever she wanted and only feeling the whip of wind blowing around her._

_"Kate?" Her mother called after her, concerned and fearful, watching as Kate ignored her, heading toward the end of the yard._

_The running made her look unpredictible, the hiding made her look suspicious. But all she really wanted to do was get away. She couldn't stay here, she couldn't take it any longer; but the one thing that killed her was knowing that Wayne would think he was right about her. The trick to running would be getting away without leaving that image of her behind- running but not fleeing. And as her feet touched the dirt road, as she began to move along parallel with the endless field of land surrounding her, Kate began to plan how she'd do just that._

----

Jack grunted as he lifted the axe once again, only being granted momentary relief before digging the subsitute-shovel back into the ground, throwing more dirt behind him. Digging up the marshal seemed twice as difficult as burying him, maybe only do to his injuries. Or maybe it was his constant questions about Kate, about her silence since they had come out here, about that distant look upon her face that still suggested that she was keeping something from him, even as she seemed to be offering him some truth.

"I can't believe I didn't get the man's wallet," Jack commented, shaking his head as he shifted weight before letting the axe hit the ground again.

Kate looked like she wanted to answer but didn't, continuing to dig deeper and deeper into the dirt. Continuously he found himself glancing towards her, hoping to catch her off-guard, surprising her by finding her at her most distant moment. But she simply continued to dig, silently making her way into the single grave amongst the hill on the beach. Since they'd found that case she'd had this quiet sense about her, refusing to answer any question he'd throw her way.

The sun's heat began getting to him maybe five feet down, or what he was sure was five feet. Worried about the boar digging up the body, Jack had buried the Marshal an extra foot, but Kate was already getting to her knees, swiping the dirt out of her way as she uncovered a hand. Dropping the axe, Jack jumped down to her, assisting Kate in bringing the body back up to the ground. He had to pause a moment when his hands were safely on the surface, wincing as he had to push himself up to the ground, but Kate was a step ahead of him, digging through the marshal's pockets, stiff and cold from days underground. Jack looked over, meeting the dead face that stared up at him. He stared back at it, caught off-guard by the cold expression of the marshal's last reaction. Jack wanted to say it looked surprised, angry, but it didn't. It looked forboding, like it was warning Jack even in death.

"It's not here," Kate announced, throwing a now-empty wallet onto the ground in frustration.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jack turned to her.

"What do you mean it's not there?" He inquired, the soreness of his arms not ready for notice of it being all for nothing. Not only that, but he may never learn the secrets of the case, of Kate, without that key.

"The key," Kate explained calmly, "it's supposed to be in the marshal's wallet, and it's not there."

"Maybe it fell out," Jack suggested optimistically.

He couldn't tell if she heard him or not as she just stared down at the marshal's body, gazing at it coldly before a single moment of frustration escaped her. Crying out, she gave the body a good kick, sending it rolling, landing with a sickening thud back into the grave.

"Kate!" Jack exclaimed immediately, stepping towards her with a hand out in caution.

Her head jerked towards him, her cold expression daring him to come closer. Jack knew then that this was so much more than opening a case, so much more than finding out secrets. For Kate, this was reality. It was the only part of her past she had left. Maybe, for whatever reason, she was desperate for a reminder of who she was before all this, maybe to keep her in tune to reality. But Jack still wanted to be in the know. He didn't like to be left in the dark, to have to figure things out for himself and force answers out of her. He didn't like the kind of person doing that made him out to be, and he knew it wasn't healthy for her conscience. So he had to get her to trust him.

"I'll help you get the case open," he offered.

Looking up to him, she met his eyes. A spark of hope flashed before them, and Jack almost smiled in relief; but as soon as it came it was gone, and Kate's tone was almost incredulous as she replied.

"You'll help me?" She repeated, disbelief and uncertainty flowing out of her like a stormy sea, fighting to remain hopeful, to reach to the shore of safety ahead, but at the same time fighting reality.

Jack paused, hesitating. He wanted to do help her, even while wanting to know for himself what was going on within her. He wanted to gain ger trust, and he wanted their so-far-so-good relationship to last. There was so much they could lose and so much they could gain. But with the future rushing towards them at this speed, they couldn't stand still like this. It just wouldn't work. Soon their past would catch up to them and it would be too much for them to handle. And that in itself was too much of a horrific torture to consider.

"Yeah," Jack assured her at last, "I'll help you."

Kate looked down to the ground, and he was sure that for at least a moment she was in true consideration of his proposal. But then she sidestepped him, moving to the case and knealing down beside it. He watched as she gazed at it as she had done all morning, and by her distant, vacant, eyes, Jack realized then that she wasn't gazing at it in wonder, but yearning. She wanted to open the case because she knew what was in it, not because, like him, she was trying to figure out just that. He didn't know why that realization hadn't hit him earlier, but suddenly everything was clicking in. He may not have to work hard at all to find out what was in the case.

"What's in there?" Jack asked, nodding towards the case. "Inside the case."

Kate didn't answer him. Drawing in a quick breath, Jack tried not to let frustration get to him. This was why he wanted her trust. He wanted her to trust him enough to confess without feeling forced or uncertain. But Kate didn't seem to have the same goal.

"If I'm going to help you you're going to have to let me," Jack pointed out. He was standing over her now, putting himself in the exact positon he didn't want to be in. "You have to trust me, Kate." He paused, holding his breath before asking the question again. "What's in the case?"

A short pause of silence follow before Kate finally admitted her answer:

"Five guns and some cash."

The confession was soft, but its meaning rang loudly in Jack's ears.

"Guns?" He repeated, hope escaping his voice. Guns meant having a weapon, which meant protection. Days ago they wouldn't of thought they needed it, not on this deserted island. But they both knew now that this island wasn't deserted at all.

"Guns," Kate repeated quietly, staring down to the ground before she stood up, case in hand. She stopped and looked at Jack, briefly meeting his eyes as she said: "Now you know why I have to open it."

The statement was almost a dead giveaway. Sure, he knew that Kate would want them to be protected, but Jack was certain that she wouldn't put so much effort- so much effort towards this kind of distant emotion- into getting some guns. Everything about her demeanor around the case mirrored every occasion in which Kate's past was brought up; everything about it gave the impression that she'd rather sink away than deal with this with Jack right now. Having his help never seemed to be an option to her until she realized she couldn't do something on her own. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He grabbed her arm before she could walk away, lightly jerking her back towards him. Kate stared at him, both hurt and confused by the act.

"Is there anything else you wanted to say?" Jack challenged, his eyes dancing intemidately around hers.

Kate looked down to the ground.

"Yeah," she admitted. For a moment Jack thought she may actually confess something to her, something deeper than guns or cash. But she proved him wrong. "There are bullets." She looked up at him. "You ever shot before?"

She hardly gave him time to consider doing anything other than to play along.

"Yeah," Jack nodded.

"Good."

The simple remark seemed to stand out more than anything she had said as her arm slipped from his hold. 'i_Good/i'._ Was she expecting him to do something specifically? The determined satisfaction that Kate gave away with the reply seemed to suggest just that, yet another riddle that Jack was supposed to be able to decipher from her rhyme. But, once again, Jack was left to wonder as he watched her walk away, case in hand.

----

Jack took it upon himself to refill the grave, hobbling as he threw seven feet of dirt back into the hole. No wallet. No key. No truth. The story didn't seem to add up. A U.S. marshal traveling, fugitive in tow, with some case that contained probable vital information to his case, and no key? Sighing, Jack paused, catching his breath as he rested against the axe. Maybe this was all some riddiculous plot of Kate's to get him up and moving.

But when he looked down, he realized horrifically that this had to be some kind of plot of Kate's. Around the line that distinguished where the two had dug up the grave, there was yet another line- a third one- that circled even wider around the grave, though it cut short halfway to the other side, as though the grave-digger had realized its mistake. And the worst thing about crashing on the island with only someone else as a fellow survivor, was that, when it came to mistakes, there was only that person to blame.

----

He saw no reason for Rousseau to bother finding their camp and digging up the grave, then going to the trouble of refilling it. Between taking both Jack and Kate captive, she wouldn't of even had the time. There was also the fact that Jack had passed by the grave before the incident and saw no sign of suspicion. He was certain, with only a hopeful ounce of doubt, that the third line wasn't dug until after they had found the case.

Jack was surprised at how quickly he was able to make it back to the beach, despite the continuous pain from his ankle. Right off he spotted Kate, sure enough leaning over her case. It was open. Contents were spilled out on the ground, but Kate hardly took notice to them as she concentrated on a single object that she held in her hand: a tiny toy airplane.

"Is there something you wanted to explain?" He demanded angrily.

Spinning, Kate stood, nervously kicking the case shut. The plane lingered in her hand as she faced him.

"What the hell's going on?" This time it was hardly a demand. Hurt rushed through his voice, as though he were physically ruined by her actions.

"Please," Kate pleaded quietly, voice struggling to remain steady, "you don't understand-"

"What I don't understand," Jack announced, cutting in, "is that you dug up a grave, refilled it, and then dug it up _again_ just so that you could lie to me." As he spoke even more anger coursed through him, and Jack found himself breathing heavily as he attempted to calm down. "What I don't understand is that you did all this-" he held up her hand- her fingernails coated in dirt- to reveal the toy plane that she had been attempting to hide, "for this." Pausing, he waited a moment before opening his mouth again, speaking more calmly this time. "You don't care about the guns, do you?"

He met her eyes, and she stared back at him, at first looking horrified, but now more solemn, as though she had anticipated this anger all along. He wondered now what she was really capable of, what was inside that caring and compationate person she would, most of the time, make herself out to be. To consider that there was an entirely different person underneath all of that, to know what that person carried with them every day and the measures they would go to protect it...it was unthinkable to Jack.

Then again, didn't he really do the same thing?

"Let me go," Kate whispered quietly, obviously not wanting to turn the situation into a huge ordeal. Jack wasn't as keen on ending the conversation.

"Who did it belong to?" Jack inquired forecfully. "The plane." Kate didn't answer, her gaze now diverted to the ground in avoidance of his searching eyes. "Is it yours?"

"Let go of me," Kate warned tentavily, struggling undereath his grip as she fought to escape. To run.

"How'd you get to be this way, Kate?" He was desperate now. It was no longer about anger or revenge. It was the desperate need for the truth. Because if she ran now, if she escaped, it'd be just like going back to the beginning. For the past few days they had been doing well with confessing when confession was needed, or reaching out and helping when the other needed that as well. But if she got away from this, if he let her go, that peace would be gone. Vanished.

"I said let go of me!" Kate hissed, attempting once more to get away.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, Jack dug his fingertips further into her pale skin, forming a pink outline of his fingernails. But this time Kate was ready. With one hard jerk, Kate was able to wrench herself away from Jack's grip, taking him by surprised as she shoved him away, topping off her struggle for escape with a punch to his jaw. Surprised and puzzled by her actions, Jack stumbled backwards, and with his mind still watching Kate's hand fly through the air, his thoughts still with the fact that she had just _hit _him, he lost his balance within a few steps and found himself crashing down hard to the ground. Ignoring his aching jaw, Jack's hands dug into the sand, keeping him still and safe from the horrific realization of what all he had just done; and he knew that she was looking back at him in the same way he was looking up to her now. Maybe she had hit him, but he had grabbed her. He felt sick as his eyes wondered to the red dots that had developed from where he had so desperatly clutched to her, and as his fingers sank deeper into the sand, all he could feel was his hold on her arm, strangling her and assaulting her freedom.

"This is who I am, Jack," she announced, though more in shame and regret than in pride. Arms crossed, Kate looked to the ground, just before where he lay, still stunned by both his and her actions, "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

With that she walked off, plane safely tucked under her arm as she disapeared into the jungle. This time, Jack couldn't watch her go. He couldn't watch her walk away; he could hardly accept what just happened. What she said. His eyes locked into the case she had left behind, the four guns she promised him in sight. He'd convinced himself that no matter what Kate did, there was still some good in her, a natural care about her for others. She wasn't cold or unsympathetic, of anything, she understood- or at least knew- pain better than Jack had ever seen before. He didn't know the pain, but he was sure that it was there, somewhere: in that look in her eye, the occasional sad smile. She wasn't a true murderer, bank robberer, or whoever she was. She was just as much of a 'good guy' as he was.

But what if he _was_ wrong?

----

_For complaining about being exhausted and therefore not obliged to do anything once he got home, Christian sure didn't seem to tired to yell. Fighting seemed to be one sport he was never too exhausted or busy to participate in, and he seemed to be up to a match whenever the opportunity came. Like now. He tried not to think about it, tried to place his mind somewhere else, but all Jack could hear was his father screaming at his mother, their voices echoing violently through the house. Surely that framed Redsox poster above his bed would fall any moment._

_He wondered how long it would go on. Frankly, he was hungry, not that that was the most important thing in the world right now. But still...- and he was curious. He should at least be able to know what the argument was about, right? He felt like the victim here, his ears sore from the pillow he had been holding to it. At last he had to get up. Tip-toeing quietly(though there was no way they could've heard him), Jack crept over to his bedroom door, slowly and carefully turning the nob as he peaked out the door._

_"I want to know where the money went!" His mother was shouting. "The money I paid for those damn sessions!"_

_"If you had listened to me in the first place," his father remarked coldly, "you would've heard that I didn't want to go to those sessions!"_

_What kind of sessions? Jack wondered. Like therapy? For marriage? Or maybe for his temper. In his opinion, his father could use both._

_"I just want the money!" His mother shrieked. _

_Crossing quickly to the wall across from his bedroom, Jack stepped slowly down the hallway, holding his breath and shaking as he went. When he finally got to the corner, Jack peaked around the wall, just enough so that he could see what was going on while being covered by the flower pot in front of him._

_His mother was in tears. Her cheeks were painted with them; and her hair was a mess. And she was shaking. Perhaps more violently than Jack was._

_"All you care about is the money!" Christian bellowed, face angry with rage. "That's all that's in this relationship for you. That's it, isn't it? You married the nice, rich doctor for the cash."_

_And his father was drunk. Jack could smell the alcohol on his breath from where he stood. His father even reaked of it; it was more than likely what started the fight to begin with._

_But now the room was quiet. His mother and father glared at each other, and Jack couldn't see how two people so angry with each other could've ever been in love._

_"Say it," Christian spoke up suddenly, voice calm and restrained. "Tell me that's why you married me."_

_"You take that back." His mother demanded softly._

_His father just continued glaring at her, eyes wild with fury._

_"Say it!" He yelled. Jack's heart lept, and he closed his eyes as he jumped, wincing at his father's voice._

_He was afraid of what would happen if his mother refused to answer. From what he knew, his father had never actually hit her, but he seemed angry enough to now. He had to do something._

_When he stepped into the room the still air grew stiller, if possible. His mother immediately turned to him, caught. Embarrased. Terrified._

_"Jack..." she whispered softly, eyes watering as she gazed sympathetically at her son._

_His father wasn't as sympathetic. In one swift movement, Christian stormed towards his son, and all Jack could do was watch, eyes wide and alert, as his father opened his mouth, the alcohol drifiting from his breath worse than ever. _

_"Don't look so guilty." Christian hissed at his mother. "He knows not to interrupt."_

_"I was just-" Jack began quietly, trailing off just before he was cut off by his father anyway._

_"What did I tell you about interrupting me?" Christian demanded. His eyes were scary. They weren't even his...they didn't even belong to the man who normally came home and would soon have a drink or two in him. These eyes were cold, not an emotion in them except for the fierce anger that flew out with every word from his father's mouth. They weren't of disapointment or annoyance. They were simply icey flames, possesing the eyes of this man who had once loved this woman, who had once felt nothing but pure joy at the thought of having a son. Or so assumed. Now these eyes belonged to someone different, some who changed with every sip of a drink they took. _

_He couldn't find the words to answer him. In his head, Jack found himself actually trying to make a list on all he had been in trouble for before, searching for the correct response. _

_A loud pop and a sudden stinging sensation in his cheek told him that he had hesitated a moment too long. The hand came around before he could think to react, his father's palm hitting his face before he could think to move. He could hear his mother shouting, crying as she screamed louder than ever, but the voice sounded so far away...all he knew was the stinging ache of his cheek and the coldness of his hand as he held it to the scarring skin; the pounding of his head as he shook, trying to comprehend it all. He had never been hit before...not by his father. He was just a kid. He had just wanted to help...just wanted to understand._

_His mind suddenly tuned into his mothers screams, so loud and high-pitched that it hurt to hear them. He couldn't take it anymore. Turning on his heels, Jack bolted for the door, dodging his father's arms as they tried to stop him. Shivering night air hit him as his feet pounded down the front porch. He kept his head to the ground as he ran, subconsiously knowing where to go on instinct. But somehow, even as he ran, Jack knew that this would be a night he'd never forget, and not in a good way._

center----/center

_It took him a moment to realize that that thumping noise was his heart, pounding violently against his chest. Jack cured himself then: a doctor's son, not knowing what a heart sounded like. Raising his hand, Jack banged once more on the door in front of him, fist aching in attempts to gain the resident's attention. At last the door creaked open. Jack stepped back on instinct. As the woman's eyes dawned down on him, Jack's eyes diverted to the ground, trying to hide. He felt like shrinking away. Why did he come here? That could just mess up things even more..._

_"Jack!" Julia gasp, knealing down to his level. _

_He turned away even more as she placed a hand to his wounded cheek, Jack himself wincing at the touch. _

_"Can I come in?" He asked quietly, struggling to find his voice, hardly able to speak above a whisper._

_Studying him, Julia smiled sympathetically._

_"Of course," she whispered quietly, the smile sad as she stepped aside to lead him into the house. _

_Jack loved this house. It was small. Quiet. Welcoming. Like a home should be. He waited to hear the door close behind him, waiting for the moment where he could sigh in relief, knowing that things would finally be calm. Safe. Julia didn't even drink, he was certain of it. Gazing at the living room couch, Jack found himself pitying Julia as he always did when he came here, because this wasn't a home for a woman to live by herself, her only company her best paying patient's son, whom she took sympathy on. This home should belong to a family._

_"You want something to eat?" Julia offered kindly, bringing him out of his thoughts. Her typical ice-breaker. But this time Jack did mind as he remembered he had been hungry...though he wasn't sure he could stomach much food._

_Silently, he nodded._

_Julia disapeared into the kitchen, beginning to tell him that a family with a boy his age would soon be moving in across the street, if he were interested in making a new friends. The Silvermans, he thought the name was. But he hardly listened, as he had already lay down on the couch, fast asleep by the time Julia had returned to the room with a sandwhich. Sadly, a small half-smile formed from her lips. She didn't disturb Jack as he slept, only set the sandwhich down, reaching for the blanket draped over the couch and spreading it over him._

_----_

_Eyes fluttering open, it took Jack a moment to remember where he was. A blanket was over him, and as he became more in tune to reality, Jack noticed that a sandwhich sat on a plate on the coffee tabel next to him. Curious, he looked up at the clock, and his eyes widened when he saw what time it was: ten o'clock. It had been somewhere around eight when he fled from his house. His father(assumingly) would be looking for him, and he wouldn't be too happy when he found him. More than likely, what would set him off most would be where he found him. Technically he probably shouldn't of been friends with Julia, as she was his father's therapist, but his father(or from the sound of it, his mother) apparently paid him enough money for her to not argue, though Jack honestly did not think she would. He didn't know why she was so concerned for him, so willing to express her sympathy and be his friend. Jack was curious, but he didn't protest. He thought that his family's money might make him popular at school, but all it did was make him a target for bullies. Maybe Julia was generally sympathetic towards the children of her patients._

_Now, Jack could hear her voice coming from the kitchen. Glancing over, Jack saw her sitting at the kitchen tabel, head in a hand and phone to her ear, looking frustrated and exhausted._

_"Not tonight," she was saying. "We shouldn't be eating this late anyway." There was a pause, and then: "No. Not tonight, Christian. We'll have to have dinner another time." _

_Jack's heart stopped. How many people did she know named Christian? He wondered, though he was hardly hopeful. Somehow, he just knew, just knew that something was wrong...that something had always been wrong._

_"No, you can't come over," Julia went on after another paused. His heart began racing. No, his father couldn't come over...he had to work early the next morning...right? Suddenly Julia glanced towards the living room, and even though the glance was too quick to catch him listening in, his heart skipped a beat. "Yes, he's here." A knot developed in his stomach. This couldn't be happening. "No! I'm not going to let you see him!" A sigh of relief escaped him. Listening carefully, he waited for the short pause that followed her cry to be over. "I can't see you tonight-" pausing again briefly, Julia spoke the next line so quietly Jack almost didn't catch it: "I have to take care of your son."_

_She hung up the phone. In the kitchen, Julia collasped onto the tabel in exhausted defeat, feeling overwhelmed. Her head resting on the table, she didn't hear him come in, but the stillness of the room made her look up anyway, and she immediately spotted him waiting in the kitchen entrance. Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to force a smile to recover. Luckily, he spoke for her._

_"Can I have some water?" He asked quietly. Though it was a simple question, she somehow knew by his tone that he had heard. And even though it was soft, it was almost- if possible- accusing. Like he knew something._

_Nevertheless, Julia offered him another smile, replying:_

_"Sure."_

----

She didn't like the jungle as much as she liked the beach. Not today, anyway. She knew she wouldn't like it as soon as she sat down on the log. The entire time she sat there, simply staring at the toy plane, Kate felt as though she were being watched. It was the trees, she figured. They seemed to be dancing around her, echoing back Jack's voice. Wanting her to explain, to be truthful. But the parinoid feeling only frightened her, stiffening her bones as she sat still, as though trying to force her way into fitting in with the suspicious jungle around her. If she could just become a part of it, if she could just blend in, just as herself...just herself and her secrets...she could pull it off. Just like she had thought she could with Jack.

Maybe she had overestimated him. Or maybe she had just not given him enough credit. She couldn't blame him for being curious, but the memories of their fight, mixed in with all of her other thoughts, suggested that it was much more than simple curiosity. He truthfully wanted to know. It was important for him to know, to not be lied to. And him being someone who had supposedly never been loved, maybe Jack had really been honestly hurt when he found out she was lying to him.

"You can't hurt him like that, you know."

She jumped. Her heart stopped before it began racing. She shook as she closed her eyes, determined she was hearing things.

"I know you can hear me, Katie," Tom's voice echoed in her mind.

"Go away," she whispered, unable to bring herself to look to where his voice was coming from.

Instead, Tom brought himself to her.

"It's okay," he assured her, "I'm not angry." He was right next to her, his face by hers. Like he was going to kiss her, but he didn't.

Kate continued to shake, concentrating hard on the ground, wanting the voice to be gone. It was funny, for so long she would've given anything to hear his voice again, to see him once more. To be in his presence. For him to tell her that it was okay...

Just like now.

But she was terrified.

"But what you're doing to him," Tom went on, "that's not okay. And he _is_ angry." Tom grinned, amused. "You hit him."

"I know," Kate whispered quietly, surprising herself when she didn't try and push him away again.

Tom smiled sincerely at this.

"It's nice to know you're listening," he replied.

Despite his smiling face, gazing at her- blood free...happy-, Kate couldn't bring herself to look at him. She was afraid of what she'd see, even though there was no reason to be afraid. She didn't want to look back on all that she had caused, the pain she had inflicted upon so many people that day.

But suddenly his hand appeared in her realm of vision, contradiciting with her decision. It wasn't bloody or even bruised. It was a pale white, sticking out, practically shimmering, against the son. The hand was reaching for the plane.

"My plane," Tom announced quietly, shocked as he tried to take it from her.

She was quick to pull it away, turning away from him completly. The hand fell on her shoulder. Kate shuddered as she blinked away tears that were threatening to come.

"No," she whispered, jerking away from his hand.

"Katie-"

"Go away!" She shouted. The tears were coming now; there seemed to be no way to stop them. Desperately she shouted at him as cried, shaking, feeling weak. Since when did she break down this easily? Since when were her walls able to fall, her carefully guarded emotions able to escape without her consent? She didn't like it...she didn't like it at all.

"Please!" He more asked than exclaimed. He was getting to his feet. "Don't hurt him."

"Get away from me." Kate demanded through gritted teeth, shaking in failed attempts to control her emotions. Her head hurt. Her eyes stung from tears and its constant stare to the ground. A parinoid vibe ran through her, shaking her to the bone. This was it. She was finally going crazy.

"Just don't do this!" Tom said again. She didn't realize until now that his tone was warning...but why didn't he want her to hurt Jack? Shouldn't he be concerned about her feelings for him himself?

"You're not real!" Kate shouted, voice echoing through the trees.

Everything stopped. His hand, pale and shimmering, came up then, and just as she were about to wince- as though afraid he'd hit her- he simply placed it gently on her face. His cold skin felt so real as he turned her toward him without her consent, and Kate soon found herself facing the man she once loved, who had moved on without her. Who shouldn't be here, on this island, touching her cheek and staring at her so calmly, eyes filled with emotion so real that the reality of his presence terrified her even more.

"But Kate-" he looked down, suddenly speaking quiety, eyes looking almost ashamed of the confession he was about to make. "I..."

Trailing off, Tom finished his statement by leaning forward to her, attempting to kiss her with his ghostly lips. Hold her with his cold hands. Capture her with emotions that seemed to be all at once resurfacing, no longer concerned about the warning he had previously been insistant on giving her. She was so confused. So terrified...what the hell was going on? And she didn't want to feel helpless or afraid. She wanted to get away. So she pushed him back. Shocked, he stared at her, much like Jack had. Very simular, in fact. Mirroring the very betrayel...

God, how many people was she going to hurt in one day?

But scrambling to her feet, Kate saw no choice but to finish what she started. If she stayed here, if she played along with this...madness...then Kate would be commiting herself to something so unexplainable that even Jack, the doctor, couldn't find an answer to...

And she didn't want to think about the contradictions to that suggestion. To her, to Kate, this was just so unreal that she was sure she was going crazy- losing her mind and her hold on herself. Everything was falling apart, crashing down on her. Everything that had been so safely buried was now arising, coming back to haunt her.

She rushed past the jungle as she ran, headed for anywhere besides back there. He couldn't be back...she was seeing things. Thinking things up in her head. She was stressed. It was the heat. It was from her still-standing wounds. It was from every excuse she had offered to Jack as well.

----

_You all everybody_

_You all everybody..._

Kate knew the words, as she had once been a Driveshaft fan for exactly three days, but she'd never expected someone like Jack to even consider liking the band. Then again, she didn't know what kind of music she expected Jack to like...

She could hear the chorus from the headphones, the volume up loud enough for him to not notice her entrance; all this helped by the fact that he was asleep. Laying on a cot of seats from the plane he had managed to pull into the caves, Jack slept soundly, never flinching until she finally had to pull the headphones away from his ears. Immediately he stirred.

"Driveshaft?" She inquired, amused.

He blinked, surprised. She couldn't blame him. She didn't even know why she came here. She had just run from him. As the pause drew on, Kate noticed that a bruise had developed on his jaw from where she had hit him. She winced at the sight of the black and blue against his skin, but despite their previous fight, Jack decided to play along.

"The song it was on was more depressing when I feel asleep," Jack grumbled, rubbing his head as he sat up.

"More depressing than-" she flipped the cd cover that was laying on the ground over, "-_Oil Change_?"

Jack shrugged.

"More depressing than a case full of four guns?" Jack challeneged. He looked up at Kate. God, the hurt was still there. "Why'd you come back here, Kate?"

She glanced around for an excuse- another lie. On the other side of the makeshift cot, Kate spotted the gun case Jack had just mention. A lump developed in her throat when she saw it, but anything to buy her time. She needed to understand why she came back here, when she was still so desperate to just be away.

"I thought you'd want to sort out the guns," Kate said, "guess you're a step ahead of me."

Jack nodded.

"I burried one at the beach," he informed her, "five steps from the by that main piece of wreckage, and I thought I'd keep one hidden at the caves, and we should each take one with us whenever we go deep into the jungle."

His words stopped her. Deep into the jungle...with Tom. Or was it Tom? What the hell happened?

"Kate?" Jack's voice inquired, interrupting her thoughts.

"When-" Kate swallowed to find her voice. Her arms were crossed as she hugged herself, still shaken. "When you saw your father's ghost- hallucination- did...did he talk to you?"

For the long moment when Jack looked up at her, Kate felt more insane than ever. How crazy must she have sounded to any other person but maybe Jack? Perhaps that's why she subconsiously ran here. Even if she was upset, and he was as well, she could somehow feel safe here. He'd understand at least this much about her. He could convince her that she wasn't insane, if she let him. If she could let him in that much.

"Where's this coming from?" She should've seen the question coming.

Kate shook her head. How was she going to explain this, she realized, without explaining who Tom was? She couldn't do this...

A sudden movement caught her attention. Head spinning towards the cave entrance, Kate's heart leapt when she saw Tom there. She had to bite back a whisper, a demand, any kind of saying to him as they met eyes. _Go away..._Kate pleaded with her eyes.

"Kate?" She heard Jack ask. She ignored him.

At the same time, she couldn't understand why accepting this opportunity for closure with Tom was so diffiucult for her. The horror of it was englufing her, and before she knew it she was running again, just like that. Everything, every emotion: the fear, the guilt, the confusion, all of it pushing her as she ran hard, disapearing into the jungle and fleeing from Jack's calls after her. Never did she notice that Tom's apparition was no longer there.

----

She couldn't remember ever feeling like this in her life, which was saying a lot what with everything she had been through. It all seemed to happen so fast. One minute she and Jack were swimming, and the next she was fleeing from him, running like he was the devil. One minute she was taking care of a farmer's horses, and the next she was on a plane, handcuffed and caught. When would it stop? When would she be able to go a week- a few days, even- without something getting in her way and ruining everything?

Behind her, Jack was calling her name, making her push herself even further. But he was quickly catching up, only feet away from her before Kate could think to change path.

"Kate, hold on!" Jack called out to her, grabbing her arm and jerking her towards him. Kate tried to step back, to break away, but once again he had caught her. It was a moment before Jack could say anything else, gasping as he held onto a tree for support, hissing in pain.

"Just leave me alone!" Kate pleaded. She sounded like a child.

"No!" Jack hissed, holding onto her with both hands for his own support and to keep her still. "Just tell me what's going on- that's all I want to know!"

"It's more than that!" Kate snapped. It was one of the very reasons she refused to tell him anything. She didn't know what he thought about her, but more than likely, the truth was so much more than he thought. It might even devestate him to know how wrong he was, to know of this completely different person that she actually was.

"It's just I want to try and understand!" Jack exclaimed. "Why were you asking me about seeing a ghost?"

She stared at him, biting her lip to hold the last bit of emotion she could control steady. A distant rumble told them the rain was coming before it fell on them; and all that was heard was the sound of the rain washing over them, pounding against the jungle's trees, anticipating an answer. And suddenly, as though the rain was able to tip him off, a light of realization came over Jack's eyes, and it was all Kate could do to sit there and let the realization come.

"This place..." Jack began, glancing around the jungle, "I know it makes you think you're going crazy. And sometimes...sometimes I feel lost here too." He looked down at her, meeting her eyes. Kate was petrified. How the hell did he figure it out? "Is that it?"

She couldn't answer him. At first. The fact that he had been able to read her, despite her constant running and emotional hiding, shocked her. Ray mentioned that he figured there was more to her than she let on, but Jack...Jack was right on the first try. She was clearly opening up more than she thought, more than, any other time, she would've liked to. But once again confusion hit as Kate found herself staying there, entranced by his guess. If he knew, maybe it

wouldn't be as bad as she thought. If he knew about her, there would be no more lies, nothing to be afraid of. But if she was proven wrong, if he couldn't handle it...

Yet Kate found herself able to respond, forcing herself out of silence. If she ran he'd just run after

her. If she lied he'd just be angry, hurt. Maybe she could let him in a little, just enough...

"I don't know what's going on with me anymore," Kate admitted quietly. She looked down to the ground, hardly speaking above a whisper. "I'm confused, I'm..." she trailed off, unable to say it. Unable to go that far. _You're afraid_, she told herself, you're scared.

Jack looked positively relieved. He even smiled a little, momentarily at peace with it all. He looked happy, satisfied. His hold on her losened, his hands simply lingering on her shoulders, in a non-threatening way. He no longer had to keep her there; she was staying- he could hope.

"It's okay," he said, the smile still escaping him, glowing against the rain. "It's okay.'

For some reason, she was able to believe him. She ran to him, and he was there...then she ran again, and he followed. He_ wanted_ this moment. He really did just want to understand. But the problem with that was, for

now, he was satisfied. For now, he could stand there, smiling, just happy for the truth to come out of her. But what happened when that wasn't enough? She couldn't confess more now, this was already a big

enough step for her. So what happened when he wantedto know more? Would she be ready? And_ why _would she beready? Why was she able to stand here and confess like that to a man she hardly knew? Suddenly feeling uncertain, she stepped out of his hold, easily able to do so now.

"Kate?" He asked carefully, watching her closely.

"I'm fine," she lied, turning away from him. But still not running.

"Hey," Jack began honestly, "I understand now, that you don't want to tell me. But if you did tell me, it wouldn't be the end of the world."

She couldn't help but to wonder how hypocritical that statement was. Jack didn't exactly seem like he was

someone who was ready to leap into confession at any moment any more than she was. There was no way that he could make that conclusion about her, no matter how pleased he was that she let him in for that one ounce of truth.

"No, you don't understand!" Kate shouted. She swirled around, rain whipping at her face as she did. She was shivering now, and he looked in no condition to be standing, arguing, in the rain; but they hardly took

notice of it.

"You can trust me, Kate!" Jack said, tone still soft and assuring. Reaching up, he took her once again by the arms. Rain fell in between them, and once again the only sound was the rain falling around them, washing away the anger and frustration of the moment, the silence lasting until Jack spoke up again, speaking softly: "You can trust me."

She couldn't argue. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tried to push away, but she couldn't.

Some bigger force seemed to be trapping her into the moment, holding them close as the rain continue to fall around them steadily.

Then the unexpected happen. Or did they expect it? She didn't see the kiss coming as his lips fell on hers, but as she kissed him back, once again feeling as though she were being kept from going anywhere, it seemed like it was only natural that it happened then.

_And so it is_

_Just like you said it would be_

_Life goes easy on me_

_Most of the time_

Neither broke apart, neither argued as they simply accepted the kiss, their previous fight slipping from their minds. Nothing bothered to stop them, nothing bothered to warn them that this kiss should be the last thing they should be doing right now, concentrating on. And she let herself give into the moment. She found herself savoring every detail of it, because who knew how it'd turn out. He was shaking, she noticed, leg trembling in attempts to remain balanced, desperate to hold himself steady so that he could kiss her. Noticing this, she held onto him even more tightly, inadvertently deepening the kiss as she did. She decided that she would loose herself in this moment, taking her away from this place that made them both crazy, that made them feel lost. She took him along, pulling Jack away from the pain, away from the hurt from her betrayel. For seconds more she let the moment possess her, never giving into reality until a single sound stopped her- a small gasp that escaped Jack as he took a breath of air.

What the hell were they doing? She realized. This wouldn't end in a good way...it never did. Tthen there was no picking things back up; and in this situation, here on this island, that could prove to be suicidal.

"Kate-" Jack began, already knowing what would come out of this.

Kate shook her head. What the hell did she do? Why couldn't they have just walked away, let Jack be satisfied with the truth he had? Now things would be so much more complicated...they'd never be the same.

"I've..." Kate studdered, waving at the jungle behind her, signaling her departure. "I've got to..."

Even running from him now would hurt him, she knew, but it was all for the greater good. Of anything, she

hoped that he would understand that. He didn't seem happy with it, but nonetheless he nodded, waving her

away.

"Go." He instructed, already turned from her as he held onto the tree beside him, perhaps now for moral

support as well as phsyical.

Only for a moment she argued as she gazed at him, still in awe at how she was always able to do this, no

matter what. No matter what kind of relationship she had with somebody, she was always able to end up hurting them. There wasn't even a logical way to turn back now, nothing to erase what she was implying. So,

once again, she had to finished what she started; and she ran.

Behind her, Jack leaned against the tree, closing his eyes, wanting it all to be gone: the pain, the frustration, the hurt. It frightened him to consider what made Kate run, the past that she held within her that forced her to go, even if Jack could see, in his mind, possibilities in keeping their relationship relatively normal. Maybe he hadn't been seeing enough of reality. He'd moved too quickly. He'd underestimted her emotions when, for once, they had been right there in front of him. Somehow, he had thought it'd be okay if they believed it would be. But she ran, leaving him here to hate himself, to hate the kiss...

_I can't take my eyes off of you_

_I can't take my eyes off of you_

_I can't take my eyes off of you_

_I can't take my eyes off of you_

_I can't take my eyes off of you_

_I can't take my eyes..._

But at the same time, deep down, he didn't.

_And so it is just like you said it should be _

_We'll both forget the breeze _

_Most of the time _

At last the rain was gone, and the day was once again beautiful, contradicting exactly with what was going on on the island at that moment. It would've been the perfect day to see there and do nothing, to lounge around and try to figure out how to play _Backgammon_ or to play _I-Spy_ again like two kids with nothing to do on a summer day. Had they only done that, had she only not been so selfish...

_And so it is _

_The colder water _

_The Blower's Daughter _

_The pupil in denial_

A sob escaped her before she could control it, and soon Kate found herself bawling, tears streaming down her cheeks. She tried to stop them, choking back tears as rested her head against an arm, closing her eyes and blinking away her emotions as they fled from the imprisoment of their walls. But they kept coming. She felt drenched in tears, Surely soon enough she would simply wash out to sea and be lost forever. Be lost and away from this place and away from this innocent guy who only wanted to help her. There were just too many what ifs. What if she failed? What if he grew to hate who she really was? What if she found out she really couldn't trust him, trust him to pick her back up as she fell and to, for once, be the one that would stay. That wouldn't move away or turn her in. That would give her a reason not to want to get away.

And what if she was running from the best thing that could have ever happened to her?

_I can't take my eyes off of you _

_I can't take my eyes off you _

_I can't take my eyes off of you _

_I can't take my eyes off you _

_I can't take my eyes off you _

_I can't take my eyes... _

He told himself that he should be giving her space. He told himself that there was a perfectly logical reason as to why she would want to run from him like that. He should have been patient, but he couldn't. He had to know...was it him? Or was it this mysterious past that seemed to torture her, restraining her from speaking even the slightest fragment of truth about herself. Only today had she offered him that. He hadn't expected any more out of her, though he wouldn't of turned it down, and he hoped she didn't think that of him. Jack knew how it felt to simply want to keep things secret, to never tell anyone but yourself.

But he found himself uncertain of what to think as he watched her on the beach, crying and shaking as she sat by the shore. What would she do if he tried to comfort her? He hadn't meant to scare her before- the kiss was probably uncallfor- and he was trying to decide the best way to show her that he could, indeed trust him. Should he go and offer his support, or should he stay and simply be a passerby, turn the other way and let things happen as they happen? Could _he_ trust_ her_ not to run, if he did go? As a boy, he used to sit and the car and watch his father fill up the gas tank, keeping an eye on his every move even though he was just outside the door. When he was older, looking back, he thought that was riddiuclous...why go to so much trouble when his father was only a few feet away? Only later on would he realized: he was afraid that his father would just disapear. Jack would turn away and he'd be gone, just like that. And now, even though he should have gone back to the caves, he found himself watching her, keeping an eye on her every move as she cried, her soul slipping from her by the tear.

_Did I say that I loathe you? _

_Did I say that I want to _

_Leave it all behind? _

That night Kate finally brought herself to go back to him. She didn't know what she would say, but she knew he'd be wondeing. He'd want answers even though he wouldn't ask, and even though she wasn't ready to give them, Kate could now understand why he was so desperate for them. When she would question Jack about his father, Kate found herself doing so for psycological reasons for Jack's sake more than for her own benefit. She could see that he needed that closure. She could see that he needed that push, needed to accept it all, even if he may not want to. He needed a friend. As for Kate, when the gun case turned up, and with the toy airplane seeming to be her main concern, she left Jack puzzled, running at any step towards confession. She kept running, kept dodging answers and conversation. Jack had done so as well, but not as desperately as she.

But she had good intentions. She was just trying not to hurt either of them. It seemed logical, it seemed reasonable. But now, after hours of thinking the day over by the shore, it just seemed cruel. No, she wasn't ready to confess her soul; she was just trying to go about this carefully.

Stepping into the caves, Kate noticed that Jack was sorting through some luggage in his own cave. He was sitting down, clearly avoiding putting weight on his bad ankle. Kate smiled sadly. She took another careful step forward, planning what she'd say in her head. She hoped that this wouldn't be the end of their friendship, she knew that. But she also hoped that he'd give her her space. She wasn't sorry for the kiss, but she was sorry that that was the moment when their relationship was taken to the next level. She hadn't been ready for it.

Another step closer. She was almost there when Jack suddenly moved, and she realized he was laying down. Throwing two small pills into his mouth first, Jack lowered himself down to his makeshift cot, never noticing her presence just outside the door. Maybe this wasn't the time. He needed to rest, she knew, and she could at least give him that.

Making the decision, Kate turned to leave, but instead of heading back to the beach, Kate found herself lingering in the caves, eventually finding her place by a far wall and sinking to the ground. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the toy plane. Its white wings and tiny windows stared up at her, memories flashing in her mind as Kate gazed at the toy that meant so much to her. She loved this little plane that seemed to do nothing but get her into trouble. It was like it was cursed, lingering within it hauntings of a past that she would never truly be free of. She wanted it nearby as much as she wanted to throw it away, to let it take flight and glide out of her life. Torn, Kate bit back her tears once again, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the cave wall, sleep taking over her before could fight it.

I can't take my mind off of you

I can't take my mind off you

I can't take my mind off of you

I can't take my mind off you

I can't take my mind off you

I can't take my mind...

Despite the sleeping pills he took, Jack found himself awaking in the middle of the night, pain doing its deed in leaving his ankle in a firey brick of anguish. He winced as he attempted to lift his head, falling back down. Defeated, Jack stared up at the ceiling that assured his safety, keeping him away from the weather, or from any person that he didn't want in. Jack sighed. How late was it? He wondered. And where was Kate? Had she actually stayed at the beach, or was she somewhere deep into the jungle, entering an unknown world with God knows what kind of dangers.

A shallow breathing from nearby suggested differently. Stretching his neck to the side to see, Jack could barely make out Kate's form in the cave outside his, proped up against a wall as she slept. It was dark out there- only a tiny ray of moonlight allowed Jack sight into the other part of his new residence. He grabbed a flashlight from nearby, turning it on as he forced himself to sit up. It hurt, but Jack ignored the pain as he struggled to stand, and after grabbing a spare blanket, hobbled into the other room.

The air felt cooler in here, and Jack was relieved that he brought the blanket. Carefully he laid it over Kate, cautious in attempts to not wake her. The light of the flashlight against Kate's face revealed layers of dried tears, angry watery scars that settled into her skin with every emotion. His heart knotted as he watched her sleep, knowing that he was part of the cause for some of those tears today. Turning away from her, Jack tried not to dwell on this, and as a toy airplane that was on the ground caught his sight, Jack once again was faced with the fact that there was so much more to her story than he know. Yeah, maybe he might have helped her cause had he not given into the kiss or by not being as harsh on her, but there had to be a reason that Kate was so attatched to that toy plane. It'd be a question that would keep him up at night, a story that he would contemplate in his mind like a seemingly impossible-to-solve equation: if 'a' equals the one toy plane Kate has, 'b' equals the one ghost she has apparently seen, then what does 'c', the solution, equal? How does it all add up? How does it all fit together?

Jack sighed again. Already the question was taking its place in his mind, laying down the seeds for many restless nights and many theories. Many cases of curiosity and many reasons to worry. Many times that she would push him away and many times he'd fight for the truth. Many times when he'd simply have to accept that she couldn't- or wouldn't- tell him.

The light led his way back to his cave. He shivered, and as he was now wide awake, Jack was surprised at how easily the drug had failed him. Not wanting to risk adding two more pills to his dosage, Jack laid back down, turning the flashback off when his head was safely back on the makeshift cot.

_My mind...my mind... _

He knew this would be another day that he would look back on for years to come, and he knew that in years to come, he still might not have an answer to the equation. Only until a bigger problem, if possible, came along would Jack ease on his pondering of the day's events and all he had to question, but for now he found himself closing his eyes, figuring he may as well get started on those restless nights.

_'Til I find somebody new _

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	12. Truth Takes Time

On An Island

Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer:** The phrase 'Truth takes time' was adopted from _Alias_, which is owned by J.J. Abrams and everyone else at Bad Robot Productions and ABC.

**Chapter Twelve: **Truth Takes Time

She woke up to an unfamiliar sound. The ground beneath her was cold and there was no blinding sunlight to greet her. Confused by this strange atmosphere, Kate let her eyes flutter open to meet her explanation: she was at the caves. A roaring waterfall was only a few feet's distance away from her, its mist dampening her hair. Shivering slightly, Kate took the moment to realize why she was here. Everything came back to her at once- the case, the kiss, running- when she spotted Jack across from her, refilling water bottles. What looked like a plate of fruit sat next to him on the ground. He didn't notice her awakening until she shifted her weight, a blanket she didn't remember having when she fell asleep falling from her shoulders. Her plane, she realized, lay grounded on the floor next to her.

"Hey," Jack greeted her, glancing towards her still-puzzled expression. She didn't reply. "Want something to eat?"

He didn't give her a chance to answer before he sat a plate of fresh fruit beside her.

"No airline food?" She teased half-heartily, eyeing the fruit.

Jack grinned.

"And here I was thinking you were sick of half-cooked pancakes," he replied.

"And here I was thinking you realized that I hate pancakes," she retorted, grinning. He smiled at first, but it lingered half-way, clearly a little hurt by her reply. To ease his conscience, she added: "Just kidding."

Sitting down next to her, Jack took some fruit from his own stash, staring at it vacantly before throwing it into his mouth. Kate watched, waiting for him to wince at the sour taste. She gave him a moment before he realized the fruit's foul taste, grimacing as he spit it back out.

"Sour?" She asked, bemused.

"Yeah," Jack admitted. As he glanced toward her, she saw him catch her knowing grin. "Thanks for the warning."

Kate picked up a piece of fruit from her plate, inspecting it.

"You've lived all your life in the city, haven't you?" Kate guessed, spotting some immediate flaws in the fruit Jack picked out.

"I'm used to Starbucks for breakfast," Jack confessed.

"You tried," Kate offered. Making a selection from the various fruits before her, Kate chose one of the ones that didn't look that bad and cautiously bit into it. "Not half bad."

"At least I did something right," Jack snorted. His voice fell mid-sentence. Kate studied him, noticing obvious hints of frustration he'd failed to hide. She couldn't help but to wonder, then, if there was any connection between the events of yesterday and his attempt at breakfast.

"Thanks," she said, watching for his reaction.

"You're welcome," Jack replied shyly. After a quick pause, he added: "Oh, I almost forgot-" reaching beside him, he pulled something out of his backpack: a flashlight. Jack handed it to her. "In case you ever decide to walk through the jungle at night again."

Kate accepted the gift but didn't say anything. It was almost perfect timing, an excuse for him to remind her she owed him an explanation for being here in the first place. So there was a connection, not that she didn't think that Jack wasn't capable of being genuinely nice. As a moment of silence loomed between them, Kate considered the moment- what she owed him and what she didn't. Was it fair for her to keep secrets from him like this, even though they hardly knew each other? Or should he be understanding of the space she needed? In a way, she wanted both. She wanted her space, but on the other hand, her friendship with Jack seemed promising- she didn't want to lose it all because of her emotions and past. That was what the offer for the new life was all about, right? A new start? No worries about the past...no reason for it to interfere whatsoever. But Tom's apparition, hallucination, whatever the hell it was, had reminded her of one important aspect: she had yet to come to terms with her past. Was it fair to claim it all forgotten, put it all behind and secretly ignore it? But, then again, Tom said not to hurt him...The unresolved problem left her suddenly wishing that she was alone. Jack shouldn't be exposed to her troubles, she thought.

"I had a friend once," he spoke up suddenly. "He fell in love with this girl-"

Despite her solemn mood, Kate couldn't help but to carry on her comic relief.

"You sure this is about a friend?" She teased lightly.

A small smile escaped Jack.

"Yeah," he said, "anyway, the girl this friend was seeing eventually broke up with him-" Jack shrugged, "who knows, maybe she just wasn't ready for commitment, the relationship...whatever it was, she left him, only to fall in love with another guy a few weeks later." In her opinion, Jack's voice fell way too deeply into the story for it to be about a friend. She looked to him, finding herself listening closely, studying him as he told his story. She took in everything: the distance in both his look and voice...even deciphering a sense of yearning. She decided this certainly was not about a friend. "The guy even asked her to marry him. She should have been ready to say yes- she should have said yes- but she didn't."

Once again, Kate couldn't help but to cut in, now interested in the story and curious as to how it ended:

"What did she do?"

"She went back to my friend and apologized," Jack explained. A hint of disbelief reached his voice, giving away any personal opinion on the story. "She said she realized she wasn't ready to move on, she didn't even want to. So they got back together...and lived happily ever after."

Kate stared at him. Stories like that were unheard of in her world, and she could not see for the life of her why Jack would seem so disappointed by being able to tell such a tale.

"I don't buy it," Kate admitted dryly.

Jack smirked.

"Neither did I," he said. He shifted weight, sighing as he let his head rest against the cave wall. "But it happened."

He began to stare off into space, blocking Kate out as he let himself get lost in the memory he just confessed. Kate found herself wondering about the story and the message it sent. She couldn't imagine a world where such morals of stories existed. The closest to a happy ending she had come to was always escaping before being caught. Tom had gone off to start his own life, her mother was dead, she was wanted by just about every government body she knew of- and more, and she was now a survivor of a plane crash, lost on an island God knows where and for God knows how long. As she thought about it, Kate even became envious of the story, knowing she was deprived of such luck ever happening to her.

"Why are you telling me this?" Kate had to know at last.

"Because," Jack began, not looking at her, "things have happened in your past that I know nothing about. The things you've done...the people you've met. I know you said that you can get lost in this place, but I understand if you don't want to get too lost." At last he looked over at her, his eyes meeting hers, mirroring the emotions of his explanation: this may not be something that either of them wanted, but it was understood that if that was how it was, then that was understandable. They had slipped from reality, losing themselves in what was truly beginning to feel like a dream. In what real world could reality get away with stranding her on some island, giving her freedom like she had never had before, and theoretically ridding her of her burdens, the burden of reality? And how dare it remind them of that reality. "What happened yesterday...maybe it was a mistake, and if you regret it, then I understand."

He left her with that, left her puzzled and yet impressed by his conclusions. That was exactly what she needed...space to figure out what was going on with her...and it startled her that he, well, understood. She didn't know, now, how she expected him to act- angry? Confused? But understanding? Suddenly she was even a little angry that he seemed to so quickly be able to know what was going on with her, but just as sudden she realized maybe there was a plausible explanation for the quick reasoning.

"Do you regret it?" She inquired as quick as the thought came to her.

Clearly taken aback, Jack struggled to answer:

"What?" He stuttered cluelessly.

But Kate wasn't amused. The change in his demeanor had come so quickly that his answer was obvious. Looking suddenly uncomfortable, Jack gave himself away without even realizing it.

"You know," Kate said, barely above a whisper, "the kiss."

She watched as the words took effect, and with that Jack was confirmed caught off guard. He hadn't expected this to be about himself as well. Subconsciously he ran a hand over his head, grinning sheepishly.

"I'm a whole different story," he finally replied, quite lightly in his attempts to recover.

Smile lingering, Jack looked away, hiding from her eyes- full of confusion and hurt. She could admit to herself that wasn't the answer she had been expecting. She hadn't counted on being the one to be hurt- she'd just assumed her only task would be somehow explaining herself without giving herself away completely, without feeling guilty for still lying to him, even after confession. But if Jack regretted the kiss too...then that _was_ a whole different story. Something else to explain, something else to understand, something else to overcome.

She wished she had never come to the caves in the first place. She wished that she had been able to just deal with what had happened, hidden it away like everything else, instead of feeling the need to explain...to run back instead of run away. She wished Jack wasn't the only one that had survived the plane crash. Their relationship was becoming too close for their own good and too soon. That much was obvious. And soon...soon they wouldn't be able to understand it- the secrecy, the confusion- and what would be left then? They'd each be alone. It was something she had been well aware of for days, but the possibility seemed so much more real now. But the hardest part was, she had never really regretted Jack's company. And she didn't _want_ their relationship, however it may be defined, to end. She just wished she knew how to give him what he wanted- the truth. How to give that to him without changing everything completely, with giving enough without spilling everything.

"I-" Kate opened her mouth without really even considering what she was going to say. She knew she should tell him what happened yesterday...it would help, him knowing what was going on with her. But that didn't mean she was ready...how far would she have to go into the story of Tom, if she told? "Yesterday, I saw something in the jungle-" Kate swallowed, "someone."

"Who?" Jack asked without hesitance.

"This..." she struggled with the truth, even as she was confessing it. It would be a big step for her, even if this wasn't the biggest secret she kept. It would mean trusting someone who was technically just a stranger. But yet, he was technically a friend. "this old...this person I knew. From the past." She didn't look at Jack for a reaction, but she could practically hear his jaw drop in the slightest. Because a similar thing had happened to him; which should make this easier for her... "He talked to me."

She couldn't say any more. Her mind couldn't comprehend it. Even now. She had just _talked_ to the same man she murdered. He was there...he touched her. Grabbed her hand, smiled...like they were still kids. Like he wasn't dead. Like it was real. She shuddered, and Jack didn't miss a beat.

"What did he say?" Jack wondered out-loud, seeing how much this troubled her. She didn't answer. _You can't hurt him..._you can't scare him. "What happened, Kate?"

Her arms suddenly began shaking. Desperately she rubbed her hands against them, as though attempting to keep herself warm. She could feel his curiosity- the way it would suddenly change him. The frustration, anticipation, determination. How could he be so interested to know this person he had just met two weeks ago? She hadn't counted on this happening, but she guessed that she should have. It was only the two of them, after all.

But just like that, Jack seemed to soften again.

"When I saw my dad," Jack began quietly, remembering, "I was terrified. I know how it feels-"

"You weren't there!" Kate exclaimed, though still barely above a whisper.

His face hardened. Great, now she was only making him concerned.

"What happened?" He asked again, this time less out of curiosity and more out of concern. More out of care. Like he thought he could understand if he knew about her.

She couldn't do it. When it came down to it, Kate knew that she would never be able to face him with the truth. Part of her wanted to, but part of her was afraid. Confused. She hated to have to run, but she found herself doing so nevertheless, bolting until she reached the calm dead end of the beach. The end.

If she tried to swim out of here, how far would she make it?

But she had to be serious. Fighting to keep herself together, Kate turned left, keeping herself at the nice pace of a walk. Maybe later, she thought, as she always did. Somehow, this would all work out for her...

_She never once looked back. It was a half a mile before she could no longer hear her mother's cries for her to come back. Out here, where the closest thing to a store was a market another mile and a half down the road, voices carried on for miles, and memories even longer. It was quiet. Sometimes too quiet. Fitting in with the setting, the night had grown still and dark so that the car's blinding lights behind her illuminated her form, the sound of its tires growing nearer and nearer._

_"Need a ride?" An amused voice asked._

_Kate stiffened, but didn't answer. She kept walking, determined not be intimidated by the amused voice she knew too well._

_"It's just, I figured if my son can't be here to help you, I could," the man went on, "he got onto me about that, you know, during his last phone call. He was concerned about you. He said you were...distant." The man shrugged, his arm brushing against the door it was leaning against. "I only wanted to make sure you were okay."_

_Again Kate ignored him. There was no doubt in her mind Tom would be making sure there was someone back home taking care of her, but of all people... Since they'd reach high school, Tom's dad had grown less and less fond Kate's relationship with his son. Even though they weren't technically dating, Tom's dad seemed convinced she would ruin his son's life. They were too close, he thought. She'd hold him back. And those feelings had never changed._

_"I was at the hospital the other night," Tom's dad went on- his car was now slowly following her as she walked on- "making sure this patient I knew of was being taken care of. But, as fate would have it, I just happened to be stopping by the soda machine as two nurses walked by. They were talking about a patient- young, beautiful, 'should of been so full of life, so much potential', coming in...pregnant." She stopped, but only momentarily before catching herself. She almost didn't know which would have been worse: Tom finding out or his father. Or her stepfather. "Now, I would have stopped them and gotten onto them about doctor/patient confidentiality, but then the conversation began to get interesting. They were saying it's a shame how much that name- the last name of the girl- seemed to be coming up at the hospital recently. Now, what was that name? Anderson? Arnold?" he pretended like the name clicked, though it was obvious what he was doing, "Austin."_

_Her heart began to race. Her breathing grew more rapid. It became harder to move forward, but she forced her feet along. If there was any chance she could pull off a lie..._

_"So tell me," Tom's father began, "does he know?" His eyes narrowed. "Or is it his?"_

_This time she had to stop. Yes, she and Tom had decided to officially date over the past year and a half, and his father was well aware of this, though he didn't approve. How dare he suggest this of her._

_"It was his," Kate protested defensively, though quietly. She felt sick just trying to project her voice over a whisper._

_"Oh," Tom's father said, once again more amused than concerned. Just that should have sickened her- the fact that this father could have cared less about his son's child, whether it was alive or dead. "'Was his'." He looked at her coldly. "Did you kill it?"_

_Swirling around, Kate lashed out before she could stop herself. Tears began stinging at her eyes, and suddenly Kate was reminded of the confusing feeling of being pregnant- the mood swings she would frequently have and have to explain._

_"You don't know anything!" Kate exclaimed. The car stopped, and her heart began pounding again. Tom's father just looked at her, looked at her in that way a disappointed father looked at his child._

_"Apparently neither does he," he said after a long pause, "tell me, Kate, when were you planning on telling him? When you needed money for baby food?"_

_Silently, Kate began to shake. She couldn't answer him...she didn't know. Maybe she would have called at Thanksgiving. Or Christmas. Or maybe she would have just ran. Ran as soon as she was allowed to step out of the delivery room. She couldn't ever imagine raising a child in her house; she didn't know how her mother did it. She was afraid to know._

_"Don't tell Wayne," Kate begged, "please."_

_"You know," Tom's dad began, "if you ever need help...I've got the badge." Just for show, he flashed his county sheriff badge. _

_He almost sounded sincere. Tom's father didn't approve of her relationship with his son, but he didn't like the known abuse and hardships that went on in her family. Kate looked down to the ground._

_"I don't think that's going to help," she said quietly. Wayne despised the law- all that would do would make him angrier- and he couldn't stay in jail forever._

_"You gotta tell Tom," he told her, "it's only fair."_

_She looked up at him. _

_"He doesn't have to know."_

_His reaction was of disbelief, and the unfamiliar sympathy passing between them was suddenly cut loose. _

_"I always knew you'd be the death of him," he replied coldly._

_Blinking, she desperately tried to stop the tears threatening to fall. As hard as she tried to prove them wrong- to prove Tom right- she was failing miserably. The world was crashing down, and she didn't know what was left for her to do. She was alone. Abandoned. She didn't know how Tom would react if she knew, but he was her only hope. Even if her mother found out, she wasn't sure how she'd react. Diane was so obviously afraid of Wayne that Kate was sure she'd take his side, no matter how much she tried and wanted to protect her daughter._

_"Just don't tell Wayne," she repeated as she began to walk away, heading back towards her destination...wherever that was._

----

She'd gone as far as the cable before Kate turned around. The out-of-the-ordinary object seemed to be a boundary line for them. It might as well have been a yellow tape Halloween decoration warning them to 'Enter if you dare'. Secretly, they were both terrified of passing that point, of being reminded of the dangers that lay ahead.

As it would turn out, changing directions proved a good decision as sudden clouds soon burst open, sending rain tumbling around her. At first Kate began to instinctively rush back to camp, but as her eye caught the sea she stopped, mesmerized. It was beautiful. Rain rushed over the sea in a heavy mist. Water met water, pouring from the heavens, though the sea and horizon seemed to only meet as one. They almost chased each other until resolution finally meeting miles away. The sea leaped forward slightly, the waves chasing as well until the water melted into the sand, digging in and hiding beneath the earth. If she could have stayed there forever, she just might have. Somehow, the scenery managed to capture her- the rain and the clouds and the colors- and as a smile began to fight its way across her face at the breathtaking view, the only thing able to turn her away from such a sight would be a shout from behind.

"Or you can help me."

Shaken out of her reverie, Kate turned to trace the voice to Jack, who was hovering under the shelter of a fallen piece of wreckage. His hands, wet and trembling from the cool rain, clutched desperately to keep the roof over his head.

"I mean," he went on, "I know nature's important and everything. It's not like I'm hurt..."

Kate took the hint from his sarcasm and ran over, dropping to the soppy sand before him. Studying him, Kate was quickly able to decipher Jack's injury: his already-injured ankle was turned out in a disgusting angle, the bandage once wrapped firmly around it now slipping, revealing a new layer of blood.

"What happened?" Kate demanded, horrified and concerned.

"I don't know," Jack told her, wincing as a wave of pain hit him, "I was walking and I must have tripped...my leg completely gave out. The next thing I knew I was on the ground. I tried to make it back to the caves-"

"It's okay," she assured him, "but we've got to get you out of here."

Placing a hand around his shoulders, she helped him stand, supporting his weight as they hobbled towards the jungle and out of the now-cold rain. She couldn't help it: just before they reached the trees, just before the sand disappeared into unwelcoming globs of mud and branches, Kate looked back to where, just moments ago, the scenery had been enough to steal her focus away for an infinity. It was a moment she wished to capture, a moment she wished to be able to keep with her as a calming referance for as long as she needed.

"Hold on," Jack suddenly requested, stumbling back a little before catching his balance. Kate eyed him, worried. From the looks of it, his injury had taken a turn for the worse, a turn so brutal it was causing him to fail miserably at any attempts to hide any pain.

"What were you doing out here?" Kate inquired.

"I forgot something."

By the quick reply, Kate knew he was hiding something from her. She studied him, eyeing him for some reasoning to the obvious lie. But Jack looked away casually, shifting weight so that his injured ankle was practically inches off the ground. She took this as a sign that maybe they should move, but as she moved to once again help him walk, something sticking out of his back pocket caught her eye. A gun. Eyes widening slightly, darkly, Kate couldn't help but to ask as soon as she spotted the weapon:

"Since when do you carry a gun?" She demanded.

Jack looked at her, confused.

"Protection, remember?" He said. "Five guns...bullets..."

His sarcasm washed away as another wave of pain rushed over him, and Jack nearly tumbled backwards. Despite her curiosity, Kate dropped the questions and continued to help Jack get back to the caves. Throughout the trip, the gun would repeatedly catch her eye, the weapon seeming to eye her itself as she struggled to support Jack's weak weight. After awhile, Kate was even certain it was glaring at her. Daring her. Beckoning her.

"Shut up," Kate snapped quietly.

"What?" Jack replied.

Kate looked back down at the gun. Still it stared up at her. She shivered.

"Nothing."

----

"Here," Kate said when they reached the caves, lowering Jack to the ground, "careful."

Moving quickly, she crossed over to his cave, looking for any kind of medical supplies that would help her. Bags lay sprawled about- all of them empty. Suitcases were stacked, but the only ones not empty were cluttered with jeans and socks. She turned around, frustrated, only to meet her stupidity. A makeshift table- made of yet more suitcases- sat against a wall, covered in pill bottles and medicine supplies like one would decorate a coffee table in magazines and food.

"They're against the wall!" Jack called to her.

"I know." Kate replied, both stunned and impressed by Jack's organizational skills.

She shook herself out of it, grabbing a handful of towels and other supplies she knew would be helpful. Rushing back to Jack, she fell to the ground in front of him. He'd already kicked his shoe off, exposing a bloody wound.

"I don't know what happened," Jack announced, wincing as she applied pressure to the wound.

"You said you tripped right?" Kate asked, shivering a little herself from the rain that still drenched her body and clothes.

"I guess," Jack said. Kate eyed him. "I hoped it wouldn't be this bad."

Kate's expression soften sympathetically. Even doctors, she reminded herself, could feel pain. She remembered back to when they first met- when Kate sewed up the wound on his back. Jack hadn't so much as flinched. He seemed more vulnerable to emotion now, she noticed, and even though they'd seemed to be feuding over the past day, Jack was now trusting her with his life. It gave her hope to know he wasn't so cold as to completely turn her away, to completely disappear.

Outside the rainstorm was calming down, and finally, so was Jack.

"I've got it," he offered, reaching for her hand. Kate looked up at him, admittedly crestfallen. Maybe he was able to read her mind and didn't like what he learned. Choosing to ignore him, Kate went on, attempting to stop the bleeding. "Kate." He caught her eye again. "I'm a doctor...I can take care of myself."

She looked down. As much as she hated to admit it, the comment hurt her. The dismissal hurt her. The hope she once possessed had been crushed, murdered. Defeated, Kate's hand dropped to the ground. Her attempting to keep helping would only lead to him force her to leave. But Kate now chose to stay.

"You can go," Jack reminded her as he began to tend his own wound.

Kate looked down at the floor.

"I know," she said quietly.

His eyes lingered on her for a moment, studying her until he finally accepted this. Finally went back to work, and neither of spoke as he continued her job of taking care of the wound.

----

They sat quietly, Jack against one wall and Kate against another. After stopping the bleeding, Jack was easily able to clean the wound, and within moments the hectic conflict was over. Jack sat breathing heavily but as quietly as possible, as his body calmed with the fact that he was okay now. He was still in pain, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Keeping her eyes to the floor, Kate also gradually grew to the idea that she could stop worrying now. But now that they had nothing to worry about, now that they were just sitting here, waiting for someone to say something, waiting for someone to leave, Kate had to face the fact that she had stayed. If she were to put herself in Jack's mind, this would mean she had something to say. Something to explain. But truthfully, she wasn't sure why she was still here.

"The rain's stopped," Jack pointed out, glancing over to her. Kate didn't say anything. She didn't have an answer to give him. She knew she wasn't ready to confess anything; her earlier attempts had proved so pathetic Kate was afraid of even warming up to the idea. But Jack didn't push any kind of answer of that sort. He just kept glancing over towards her, and underneath his gaze, Kate began to feel uncomfortable. He wanted her to go, she realized. If she wasn't going to open up, he didn't want anything to do with her. The idea made Kate shiver, made her angry. Jack's patience wasn't lasting as long as she had hoped.

"Yeah," Kate remarked, her bitterness escaping her before she could stop it. She stood up. "I should go."

With effort she turned swiftly on her ankle, heading for the exit.

"Are you looking for something?"

Kate stopped, and slowly decided to let him continue. Maybe he realized his forceful good-bye. But, then, his impatience didn't seem to be out of ignorance. Maybe he was just giving her space...the offer had just been unfamiliar; Kate hadn't recognized it.

"You keep coming back here," Jack noted. Placing a hand against the wall, he struggled to pick himself off the ground. "I just wanted to tell you-" he was behind her sooner than she expected, and Kate looked down, trying to block out his presence above her and the eyes that were on her; but still intently listening to whatever reasoning he had. "You don't owe me anything."

Her heart began to race slightly. Was this another offer of his? An offer of redemption? And he was going to give it to her, just like that? She turned away. No, he didn't understand...Kate began to walk away, hating her decision as she did. This was a good thing, she told herself, he cares about you. And yet that scared her. He didn't even know her, and he had already taken her under his wing. And what worried her the most was that, were she to actually tell him the truth, she could not be certain he'd still think the same of her.

_"Hey," said the man behind the counter, "hey, Miss."_

_She looked up at him, her dark eyes startling him out of his statement._

_"Are you okay?" He was finally able to ask. "Is there someone I can call?"_

_Kate shook her head and laid her head back down on her arm. The market nearly two miles away from her house ended up as her refuge, her soul baring in the wooden stool she sat on in front of the counter of the market's own deli. Denim jacket pulled closely around her, Kate shook slightly as her tears finally stopped. Her eyes were now empty sockets of emotion, red and raw from their uncontrolable breakdown. The man behind the counter had turned his music off, and the lights of the market were now dim, aiding in her attempts to hide in the corner. It was nine-thirty now, but the market's owner would stay open an extra half hour tonight because one of the poorer men who lived down the street would use the phone to keep in touch with his sister in Florida. He'd then sit down for a complimentary sandwhich, as the poor man's father had been a good friend of the market owner. This would give Kate enough time before she'd be forced to find a new dwelling place._

_"You sure you don't want anything?" Lenny was the market owner's name. Still rested the protection of her arms, Kate shook her head. "No offense, lady, but you've been coming in here every night for two and a half months asking for a vegetarian sandwich with a side of tomatos...now, I've got a plate in the back prepared for you. You sure you're not hungry?"_

_She was flattered by the offer and the fact Lenny had memorized her order, but Kate knew she wouldn't be able to eat. As hungry as she had been during her short pregnancy, Kate had lost her appetite the moment she'd lost her child. Lenny studied her in concern but could see she needed to be left alone. Didn't need to be, but wanted to be. Meaning that, at some point, he would come back with more questions of concern._

_"If you want it," he said, "it's in the back. Help yourself."_

_"Thanks," Kate muttered, speaking so quietly he didn't hear her as he passed by, grabbing a broom and beginning to sweep the floors. _

_The store was quieter than she could have asked for. Normally, the empty fields or dark woods would have been the place to hide, but Kate couldn't bring herself to run there. Wherever she went, memories followed her. Memories of her childhood, of Tom. When he was here to comfort her after an incident much like the one tonight. Or maybe to understand and just give her her space when she didn't feel like talking. But this market had much older memories._

_ She'd had her second kiss here. Her first date had been with a science wiz from her school in sophmore year. On first judgment, Kate had made the guy out to be nice, decent. But she was wrong, and the date didn't end well. He didn't understand her like she was used to being understood by Tom. An hour walk around his uncle's farm seemed to justify his kissing her; and Kate realized that as ready as she seemed to begin dating, she wasn't ready for this step in a relationship. Her date was clearly hurt, and Kate had hated herself so much that immediately after the breakup she ran here, to this market, where Tom just happened to be. And in these very seats- the same seat she was sitting in now and the one beside it- Tom convinced her that it was okay to be afraid. She hadn't been afraid, Kate had explained, it was just she barely knew the guy, and he barely knew her. It just seemed wrong. Eventually Tom was able to calm her down. The whole purpose of the date was to prove that she could have friends other than Tom and a life away from him. But that night, at that market, at this counter, Kate realized that it was she who was wrong. Right then she could never imagine a life without him in it. Tom kissed her that night, after much reassuring that she'd be okay. It was okay to be wrong. Frankly, he had never wanted her to be right. The kiss didn't even feel awkard or out of place, just a message of comfort and reassurance. Only with Tom, Kate realized, would she ever feel comfortable appealing to someone on an emotional level. Letting them in. Moving forward..._

_And now, for the first time in all those years, Kate regretted that kiss. In the end, it'd done nothing but bad for her. Tom had grown too deep inside of her, became too in love with her- and vice versa- for their own good. And the pain was so much more than she could have ever imagined. But just this once, just tonight, she wished that she could have it all back. Yes, she had hated accepting that step in their relationship, but now she found herself missing him again. Wanting him there again. If only she could have him back tonight, have him there to, once again, comfort her and tell her it would be all right. She'd grown too accustomed to his company and care, and over the past three months she hadn't known what to do without him- how to deal with herself, how to deal with the pain. If only he'd come back for her...if only he had stayed._

_"Katie?"_

_She nearly fell off the seat. No way... She had to turn around to convince herself she hadn't imagined the voice, and even then Kate was unsure of the truth. Tom was standing at the end of the isles, looking stunned at the sight of her broken form. Her tears had dragged her down, her emotions draining her of the energy to hold herself up. She felt embarrased as she lackadaisically picked herself off the counter, her feet falling to the floor with a feeling like that of being in a dream._

_"Tom?" She whispered in disbelief._

_Maybe she was going crazy. This couldn't be real...this kind of luck, this kind of coincidence...she'd never heard of it before. But it had to be real- even Lenny had stopped sweeping._

_"Tom Brennon," Lenny announced, leaning against his broom, "where the hell have you been?"_

_He chuckled, but Tom wasn't amused._

_"Do you mind?" Tom asked, nodding towards Kate. Lenny glanced to her and nodded, leaving them to their privacy, eyeing the two as he did. _

_"Kate..."_

_They began heading towards each other at the same time, colliding in a fierce hug, deep with emotion and relief. Sobbing, Kate cried once more into his shoulder, unable to help it. _

_"I got here as quick as I could," Tom quickly explained, rubbing her back soothingly, "what happened?"_

_He pushed her away from him carefully, studying her in concern. She looked back up at him, her sadness, sorrow, and the ultimate feeling of relief now having no hopes of remaining hidden. Eyes meeting her gaze, he held her there, and in her head, she could hear the words he'd said so many times to her: _It's okay...

_"I-" she swallowed, choking on her tears. She could feel Tom's hands comfortly squeezing her shoulders, every gesture of his coming as nothing but care and concern. Gently she removed one of his hands, taking it and leading him further towards the back of the market. Lenny was kind, but he was also curious. Soon they were at that spot- those same two chairs. She wondered if Tom noticed. But his look was so full of concern and worry that she could assume not. She had to tell him, Kate knew, this may be her last chance, and she knew the consequences she'd suffer from forcing herself to keep this secret. "I...I was pregnant."_

_Tom backed up slightly in his seat. His hand almost left hers in surprise, but she held on to it, desperate to keep him there. Staring at her, he sat in awe, in a startled awe that left Kate second guessing her decision to confess until he spoke up, relieving her of his silence._

_"'Was pregnant'?" He inquired, still as deeply concerned as before._

_Kate looked down to the floor and then back up to him, meeting his eyes sadly._

_"I lost it."_

_"Oh God-" he caught her as she collasped into tears, interrupting his reaction. It was so much to take in, but she was in no way pushing him for a reaction as she once again found herself being held up by his arms, his comfort supporting her as she cried. "Kate-"_

_"I'm sorry!" She said in a gasp for air. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't!"_

_"It's okay..." she shuddered at the familiar words, subconsiously wondering if she could trust him. Did he mean it? Was this comfort from true emotion? She could hope..._

_"I couldn't bring you down, I couldn't..." she trailed off even as she desperatly tried to attatch herself to explanation, falling deeper into his hold as he clutched to embrace her._

_It was obvious he couldn't bring himself to be angry with her, and Kate was even a little grateful for this. She didn't need to be yelled at again...she didn't want to be. Eventually they'd have to talk this out, but for now, Kate was satisfied with his simple support. She just wanted him there...they'd work on forgivness later._

----

The footsteps reached her before she could say something to stop them.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded as Jack's shadow appeared over her.

She wasn't given enough time. She still needed to sort herself out, decide what she wanted to do. Not be constantly made aware of the situation and a need for that decision to be made.

"I wanted to know if you were okay," Jack explained. He didn't take a seat, just remained standing behind her. "I needed to know..."

"Stop," she cut in. All fell silent, allowing her to speak. "Stop making me these offers...giving me second chances. You don't even know who I am." She looked down to the ground from where she had been staring out to sea. Quietly, she added: "You don't even know what I did."

His answer was simple and came after only a brief pause:

"Maybe I don't want to know."

Kate did her best to hold herself together. Why was he being so complicated? He couldn't ignore who she was- it was too much a part of her, even with the second chances.

"Then what do you want to know?" She challenged sharply.

This time, Jack knealed down next to her, practically speaking into her ear as he replied:

"I want to know why you keep running," Jack said, "I want to know why you're afraid of moving forward. I understand about our relationship, but a second chance is a second chance. The past can't hurt you here."

If only he knew the two scenarios he was talking about was the same thing. She couldn't move forward with neither him nor this blank slate because of the same reason: she just couldn't get over it. She couldn't get over Tom, she couldn't get over Wayne, she couldn't get over Tom... her and Tom's relationship had become too much to simply forget it- at least in her opinion. She wasn't quite as ready as he had been to start over, and she especially wasn't now. There had been no closure, no explanation. All of it, all of her past had been left so out in the open that she was certain it'd be unfair to just start over. To just give up.

"Okay then," Jack said at her silence.

She let him get a few feet away from her before she called him back. It wasn't fair to her past, but this wasn't fair to Jack as well. She couldn't hurt him like this...Tom was right.

"Jack..."

He turned around. She struggled with her words, struggled to find her voice. Struggled with what to say. She could do this...she could. But she remained silent. Kate worked the words around in her head, attempted to form sentences. Explaining her past, explaining the running, explaining everything. But there was just so much to say. It wasn't just that she didn't want to or wasn't ready, there was just too much. She was completely torn in two- with what to say, how to say it...everything.

And somehow, Jack was able to see this, and he knew this wasn't the time to leave. She'd be ready, in time. And in the mean time, he walked back over to her, sitting down- the usual wince of pain coming from him as he did. Kate glanced to him, wanting to thank him, wanting to know how he was able to easily see this was what she needed- time. But comfort. Time. But care. Unconditional care... Managing a small smile, Jack exchanged the glance but then turned away. Because that was what she needed. Time. And Space. And care.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews! You guys rock!

Until next time...

October Sky


	13. Guilt

On An Island

Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer:** If there's any lines you recognize from the show, then they're from the show. I do not own them, they're still the propert of Bad Robot and the writers, producers, ect. at _Lost_ and ABC. "Babylon" is a song by David Gray from his album _White Ladder_.

**Chapter Thirteen: **Guilt

Sometimes it was surreal to sit there and know there was a whole separate world out there. To sit there on the shore and see nothing but the horizon, nothing but the sea ahead...it was an incredible feeling. It was a peace one could only dream of in a normal life. But for this life, it was an escape. A highly coincidental escape. What if they had landed in the jungle and not the beach? How would their lives have differed? How long would it have been before they surrendered to the animalistic society of the jungle? How long would it have been before they were to give up on each other?

But in that sense, perhaps landing on the beach wasn't the better reservation to ask for. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking, a dreamscape away from reality. A let down. To sit here and to know that elsewhere there were people fighting for hope, fighting for relief, it made you wonder...maybe this was all just a joke. A dream with false interpretations. Because what happens when a dream becomes a nightmare? What happens when you're deprived of that relief? Deprived of that offer of a sane lifestyle?

How easy is it to change from one lifestyle to another? To let go of that busy, face-paced lifestyle and give into that calm vacation from reality your friends always talked of? To let yourself be cared for and no longer let yourself be the only source you're dependent upon? And then, once dream turns back into cold reality, how easy is it to change back?

"Are you hungry?"

Kate didn't answer. He studied her to find reason for her silence. Nothing. Jack held back frustration- after all it was only the first time he'd attempted to talk to her since sitting down- but it was hard not to consider that Kate may be simply ignoring him.

"Kate-" he began carefully, "we've been sitting here for hours...at least say something."

What if it was uncertain which lifestyle you lived in?

He looked to her, waiting for an answer. If she didn't want to talk or didn't want him there, why sit there for long with him? To ease his own conscience?

"I'm not hungry." Kate announced quietly. Her eyes never left the sea ahead of them.

What if you weren't sure if you were moving forwards or backwards? If the world you were living in was the most insane concept you'd ever struggled to decipher, or if everything made perfect sense? What if you just didn't know?

Maybe it was her denying his offer, but suddenly Jack was becoming admittedly impatient. They really had been sitting still for quite some time, and the consequences resulting on his ankle weren't the best. He tried to ignore the pain, convincing himself the important thing was to be there for Kate right now. And, really, it was what he wanted to do.

If they were lucky, the sudden oncoming storm might be their icebreaker. Both eyes perked up to reality and to the horizon as thunder clashed and lightening lit up the sky ahead. In moments the world around them had turned a dark tint of purple: the storm was heading for them. But yet, neither moved.

Thunder clashed and a dog barked. Jack turned in surprise, mind reeling with the sudden explosion of noise. The afternoon had been so calm and quite. Never would either have predicted the frantic barking of the frightened dog or the hectic brewing storm. Their silent conversation's need for privacy didn't stop Vincent from running over, leaping into Jack's lap the moment he was close enough to do so. This made Kate smile, the tiniest snort escaping from her. Jack let himself grin a little as well.

"It's cute," Kate commented, "the way you two bond." She took her eyes away from the dog and out to the stormy sea as her statement concluded.

"He's okay," Jack quipped lightly, "he likes to steal the covers, though."

A small smile appeared on Kate's lips.

"No wonder you smell like dog."

Jack couldn't help but to go along with the joke. The comic relief felt much needed and not only because of the storm's humidity. It grew intense, sitting there and waiting for one another to speak. The anticipation really began to eat you up, and the possibility of a let down brought on an unimaginable fear for such an uneventful conversation.

"Okay, get off," Jack instructed to Vincent, attempting to push the dog off.

Vincent protested, yelping as he scrambled back into Jack's lap, knocking Jack to the ground. He let out a chuckle as Vincent curled into a ball, laying down on his chest. The weight drained any energy Jack had to lift the dog off him, and Jack instead lingered on the ground, basking in the moment of comic relief. Jack let Vincent rest as he scratched behind the dog's ear, watching the emerging storm in front of them. They should be going, he knew, but neither made a move to do so. For the first time Jack found himself not weighed down with worry, and he was surprisingly able to just enjoy the moment and everything about it- the dog pinned on top of him, who had run to him in a time of fear and danger, the potentially dangerous storm itself right in front of them, lighting up the sky in a violent, yet beautiful, glow, and the smile resting on Kate's face as the dog began to lick at an old wound on his neck.

"That's it, then," Kate began, "I've been dumped for a dog."

He could only hope the sad tone and smile that had come with her comment was only in a mocking sense; surely she wasn't taking herself seriously. It wasn't as though he had been abandoning her- and not just at the moment. Especially when he'd moved to the caves, Jack had been careful about maintaining his friendship with Kate...he guessed you could call it a friendship. Would 'friend' be what you would call someone who'd survived a plane crash, torture, and other unthinkable hellish events with you? Someone who was there at the end of the day to mention that everything was okay, even when it clearly wasn't? Who really had always been there?

Jack chuckled.

"I choose not to answer that," he teased.

Kate grinned.

"I knew it."

Jack couldn't help but to grin as well, though the pause would allow for a break of silence to come in between them. Once again they were back into their silent conversation- there was no real direction, no real certainty of anything. It was nice, at times, but at others, that anticipation would become too much. Soon it was even possible to get lost in the silence itself, to complete forget the point of even being there. To completely forget that you were there.

"We should go in," Kate spoke up quietly, "storm's comin'."

He lifted himself off the ground as much as he could. Kate said no more, and he began to get the feeling she didn't really care if the storm was coming. She would sit in it, right in the middle, becoming just another factor in the life-and-death risk of a lightening storm and everlasting downpour of rain, if safety were to forget her.

"In to the caves?" Jack asked, just out of curiosity.

Kate replied exactly how he was thinking:

"Where else?"

On cue Vincent leaped off of him, the quick relief rousing a cough from Jack's throat.

Yeah, where else?

"Looks like he's ready to go," Kate commented with dry humor, assumingly meaning Vincent. The dog's tail wagged madly, his tongue panting with every breath of excitement, knowing soon they'd be safe. Jack took one last look out to sea. Soon they'd be at the caves, cut off once more from the rest of the world. The sea was a gateway, he realized, and if they could only master its puzzle, figure out its rhyme and reason and way to escape, they could sail through it.

_He would have no idea how lonely and quiet the house would get until a week after Sarah left. It was like dealing with death. The first few days things were surprisingly fine, but once everyone packed up and left...that's when the real pain began. Nevertheless, at that time his father had proven to be a great help. And now, with his father not talking and no one else around for company, Jack was left lonelier than he could ever remember feeling- helpless, even. All he had left was his work...and the goldfish in his aquarium._

_When a knock came against the door that morning, he found himself surprised. Racing to catch the door before the knock came again, Jack threw open the door just in time to see Juliet raising her fist to the door. She smiled, caught._

_A short pause sunk in before Jack could think to speak up. Maybe she'd finally turned his father around. Or maybe she just wanted to offer last-minute sympathy._

_"Aren't you leaving town today?" Jack pointed out, puzzled by her reappearance._

_"I could..." trailing off, she looked to the ground, smiling sadly, "but it's been years, Jack. Do you really want to say good-bye, just like that?"_

_Jack hesitated. In a way, he did. In a way, he wanted this to be over with, like it never happened. He didn't want to get too attached. Already the letdown of his failure had brought on a new wave of pain, frustration, and disappointment. But at the same time, having Julia back in his life had become somewhat of a relief to him. He had someone to go to again, someone who cared. Jack sighed. _

_"Do you want to come in?" He offered. He was forgetting how he looked, dressed typically for his mornings off in running clothes, ready to run for miles. It was almost like running away. But like every other hopeful wish, at the end of the day he was reminded of what he needed to come back to. At the end of the day, he still had his job, the one thing that held his life together, no matter how many painful memories the hospital brought back._

_"Let me guess-" Julia joked._

_"I was about to go for a run," Jack admitted, "but if you want to come in-"_

_"Actually," Julia cut in, with a hint of a smile on her face, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out." Jack's eyebrows shot up, puzzled. Julia laughed. "To lunch, Jack." He couldn't help but to let out a sigh of relief as he laughed the misunderstanding off. _

_He hesitated again, once again doubting himself. He was torn in two, unsure of what would be the right thing to do. They were still technically not supposed to be in communication with each other; and there was so much past there Jack was beginning to find it amazing how easily Julia was letting go. Maybe she was finally beginning to realize where her heart had always been and what her original intentions- hopefully- had been. Maybe she'd even come back..._

_Jack shook himself out of it. She'd been so angry...of course she wouldn't come back. Maybe this wasn't a good idea._

_"I'm paying," she offered._

_Paying for lunch would have been no complication for Jack, but Julia smiled then, and her desperation for his agreement became obvious. He couldn't turn the offer down._

_"Give me a minute to change," Jack sighed, already closing the door as he headed upstairs. He could only hope he wasn't doing wrong, pulling the past back up. It was risky, but maybe if it worked out...perhaps this was the change his life needed. Or maybe he was just in for another letdown. _

The rain chased them into the caves as they ran, Vincent in the lead. As the two humans skidded to a stop, already tearing off their shoes to pour out the water, they watched as Vincent shook himself dry, shivering.

"I'll take it he wasn't a watch dog," Kate teased, grinning from where she chose to sit a safe distance away from the rainy entrance of the caves.

"I wouldn't underestimate him," Jack commented defensively, "I found him a few days in. God knows what he's seen."

Kate frowned, but Jack understood clearly what he meant. It was something he considered everytime he saw the dog. Where exactly had he come from? Where had he gone? What had he seen that made him so...terrified?

"What do you think's out there?" Kate asked, sounding dark and deep in thought as she considered Jack's theory.

Jack shrugged.

"Could be anything," he suggested, eyes still on Vincent, "anyone."

He could feel Kate's eyes watching him, horrified by what he was suggesting.

"But we're safe," Jack added, offering an assuring smile.

Kate still looked uncertain, eyes now locked in a faraway world of fear for the future. Coincidently, Jack's hand fell then on his gun as he switched rooms to change clothes. Kate caught him.

"Do you always have to carry that around?" Kate inquired.

He glanced towards her, surprised. But at catching her expression- hurt- he understood: it wasn't a question of safety but of offense. The only one around to hurt him at the moment was her. But at the same time, the same could be claimed vice versa. It was surprising how much they trusted each other when so much truth was still hidden.

"Why don't you?" He challenged.

Instead of appearing hurt, Kate only grinned.

"I don't need a gun to save my life," she proclaimed with pride. Her grin widened, and Jack couldn't help but to chuckle.

"Is that supposed to impress me?" Jack teased. He chose to ignore the truth that Kate could probably take him down with a puch.

"Maybe." Kate smiled.

Shrugging off the comment, Jack chose to turn the conversation back to its serious beginning.

"I'm just trying to protect you," Jack said.

This time, Kate wasn't amused. Her face fell, their previous comic relief forgotten.

"I've been taking care of myself for a long time," she accused coldly. Getting to her feet, she added: "I don't need you to do it for me."

Jack's face hardened, wounded. They stared at each other; Kate daring him to speak.

"How did you get to be this way?" He spoke up, quietly but loudly enough to encourage an answer. It was a big island- a dangerous one. How was it that Kate was confident to believe she was confident enough to conquer it on her own?

Kate's stare intensed and then slowly deepened, her silent answer effecting her emotionally. At last she looked away, turned away, leaving him without a reply.

_Jack watched as the numbers on the clock changed. They'd been driving for five minutes. He glanced back out the window. Not a word had been spoken since they'd left the house, with Julia keeping a straight, determined face the entire way. Determined to keep quiet._

_"Where are we going, anyway?"Jack asked to break the ice. He glaced towards Julia when she didn't answer, the car's silence drawing an errie foreshadowing. He thought to say her name, but she, at last, spoke up, her face still straight, now with a stiff fear._

_"There's something I haven't told you," Julia whispered quietly. Jack's expression hardened, puzzled._

_Instead of answering, Julia pulled the car over, crossing into a McDonald's parking lot. Though she'd spoke up, Julia still looked stiff and afraid. _

_"We're going to McDonald's?" Jack suggested, joking._

_Julia didn't laugh. Stopping the car, her hands froze over the steering wheel. Again an errie silence filled the car. Her relucance to speak startled him with concern. That was when he realized they weren't parked towards McDonalds but towards a strickingly nicer restaurant next door. He'd eaten there before, and Jack knew it wasn't a place one went on a spur-of-the-moment lunch date. Frowning, Jack studied the place for an explanation. _

_A car door shut earby. A man stepped out, an unfamiliar smile on his face. He was dressed in a suit; ready for a date. The man was his father._

_His mouth fell open, stunned with betrayel. Julia beat him to his accustion._

_"Jack-" she began quietly, desperate to grab his attention before he could interrupt._

_He ignored her._

_"What's he doing here?" Jack demanded coldly, angry. This had all been a set up._

_"Jack, if you want to talk to him, you're going to have to confront him," Julia said quietly, quickly._

_"I've tried that," Jack said, gritting his teeth. He didn't want to think of the way his father was so easily able to ignore him, turning his back on his own son without so much as a glance. All his life his father had been there, but had never really been there. But every time he turned away, what little hope left for their father-son relationship was shot down before given a chance. Or a second chance. _

_His father wasn't going to talk to him, and every time Jack attempted to speak to him himself the letdown hurt worse. It made him angry. Frustrated. And as Jack thought about it, he subconsiously thrust his hands forward angrily, grabbing the nearest object- a stack of receipts- and letting go as he jerked his arm around towards the back seat. Maybe it didn't matter anymore, what he did or how he reacted. Who was there to care? _

_Suddenly he felt Julia's cold eyes on him, glaring at him accusingly, as though she could hear his thoughts. But she deserved it, he thought. She hadn't been there._

_"I'll pick that up," he muttered bitterly, now slouched in his seat, arms crossed, angry. He paused, and then: "I don't even know why I'm trying."_

_Julia's lower lip trembled slightly as she struggled to let go of her relucant opinion:_

_"Maybe you should try and understand..." she trailed off quietly, too ashamed to have admitted what she just said to acknowledge it confidently._

_He had been willing to confront the situation with himself, actually giving talking it out with Julia a chance. He'd been willing to ler her help him again. But he couldn't see any plausible reason for her comment, none at all. It even reminded him...his father had been invited to this dinner as well. Had he been given this same conversation? The same sympathy? Anger rushed over him once more, and Jack was unable to stop himself from lashing out:_

_"You have no idea what you've done!" Jack exclaimed, voice booming within the car before breaking into frustration and an overall overwhelming sensation. He was in over his head, and he could see no possible way out. No way out, ever. He was expected to recover, but he didn't want to. He wanted to deal with this. But at the same time, all of it was getting too much to handle. Anger and impatience was slowly becoming two familiar feelings that frequentely chose to take over. His attempts at peace weren't working, and he saw no other plausible plan. He'd been desperate, calling Julia. He'd hoped she'd help, not take his father's side. He wanted out of this...no way was he going along with her plan. Almost pouting, arms crossed again, Jack proclaimed: "I want to go home."_

_She studied him. Surely his child-like demeanor touched an inner nerve, sparking memories from long before. She'd always be there, he had thought. _

_"Fine."_

_He'd never expected to be proven wrong. The car door slammed as Julia stepped out, only to backtrack and open the door again seconds later. _

_"This is my car," she pointed out. But she stopped herself short upon seeing him. _

_He wasn't even listening. Even if he had be given the chance, he wouldn't have had the energy to start up the car and drive away. His energy was beyond drained; only his fast-pace career could keep him going. And he had to follow along with the busy schedule and sleepless nights, because if he didn't, he'd be forced to stop and think. Stop and remember. _

_Jack sat there in the car, unmoving, staring at the floorboard as she stared at him, expression falling sympathetically. Forgetting the resturaunt and the man inside, Julia stepped back into the car. The door lingered open, but Jack lacked the energy to tell her. He didn't want to break his silence...he was too afraid of what might happen. Part of him felt that he might burst if he didn't talk soon. Explain everything- his motivation, his concerns, his frustrations, his fears. Yet another part felt he'd already talked too much...there wasn't any more left for him to do. That in itself was frustrating. And there was another part, the evil twin to the first that had always been with him, debating and dwelling in fearful doubt. Part of him didn't want to talk. This part knew this was his fault. He didn't deserve help. The belief would grow so confident inside him that he would learn to just not want to talk. And now he was stuck somewhere in between the three. But he knew soon his chances would be slim. Julia would be gone and he'd be left once again, helpless. Hesitantly he opened his mouth, the words then coming out of him carefully, with feeling:_

_"Why is he doing this to me?"_

_Sympathy stronger than ever, Jack was almost pleased to see Julia struggling with her 'voice of peace' role between him and his father. She didn't answer him. It must be hard, he considered, for her to be on both sides. But, in that sense, she deserved it._

_"He's still punishing me," Jack went on, now with more determined emotion, "like I'm still a kid, like..."_

_"Hiding in the car isn't going to help," Julia cut in quietly, a sad smile escaping her._

_Jack looked at her, increduous. Hadn't she been listening? Had she completely missed his frustration? Or had it only come off as some sort of selfish hatred? If it had, she was wrong. He hadn't reached that point...yet._

_"I've been trying to help him," he reminded her, becoming angry at Julia. Maybe she wasn't on his side at all. "All month, I've..."_

_"It'll help me," Julia interrupted. She was smiling as she was able to get her point across. "All I've heard is two different sides of two different stories."_

_"Are you saying you don't believe me?" Jack suggested increduously._

_"I'm saying that if I saw how he acts when-"_

_"You did!" Jack exclaimed. He wished the car door wasn't open; but Julia took no sign in closing it. She had forgotten about it. "At the hospital..."_

_"Just give this a chance."_

_Jack breathed heavily, considering her words. Maybe watching more of the unbarable tension between the two, the frustration, the anger, would convince her to believe him. _

_"Fine," he muttered, throwing open the car door._

_He found himself walking quickly towards the door. Julia fought to catch up with him. There could be hope in this, if he wanted there to be. But as he neared the entrance and could see inside people eating, people talking, he hesitated. Julia caught up with him. Her arm caught his shoulder, but he wasn't trying to run. He was transfixed, mesmerized by the idea of these people enjoying themselves. When was the last time he'd enjoyed having a conversation?_

_"We should go in," Julia whispered quietly, sympathetic to the reason for his reverie._

_Still staring through the glass, watching the dozens of different conversations taking place and considering that, in perhaps only moments, this peaceful scene could turn into something completely different, Jack nodded. Subconsiously, he made an effort to search for where his father was seated, but he couldn't find him. But he knew he was there. Jack turned to Julia._

_"He's waiting for you."_

_He only paused for a moment to let her react before heading to the door, grabbing the doorknob. But even as he first entered, he realized he was already planning his escape._

The rain was still pounding outside. Kate lingered by the exit, Jack still standing behind her: watching her; waiting for her to leave. The ocean, he realized, had been a distraction as much as it had been an escape. They could watch the waves roll in and just be watching the sea without looking suspicious. But here, there was no help. Here, they had to confront the situation or run.

"Since when does the rain stop you?" Jack commented coldly. He casually turned away, but a trace of frustration ruined his act.

Slowly Kate came out of her reverie, able to respond to Jack's accusation.

"Why do you care?" Kate retortred, as she did earlier.

Jack stared at her. No one had even asked him that before. They didn't have to. He was a doctor...it was his job to care. It came naturally. Maybe Kate could see beyond that, though that much was true.

"You don't know me!" Kate shouted.

He didn't even know how to answer her. He'd learned his lesson once and he couldn't again. He _had_ to care, because when he didn't...

"I just care," Jack defended.

"_Don't_!" Kate exclaimed. "Just act like you don't know anything about me."

"I don't!" Jack pointed out, exasperated. Kate looked irritated, impacient. Jack attempted to keep his own patience. "Why is it so hard to talk to me?"

He fell silent. The question should of been: what happened that was so hard to deal with that she wouldn't talk to him? And yet, all through this, he'd seem to have forgotten they were still half strangers. Though the island sometimes felt dream-like, like it wasn't even real, so did anything that had happened in the past. It was sometimes so easy for Jack forget they hadn't known each other for more than a few weeks. He wasn't surprised when Kate didn't answer.

But it was only moments before she spoke up again.

"What about you?" She pointed out. A heavy reaction of silence rest between them as she gathered together her comeback...something that had clearly been on her mind as well. "All you give me is these pieces of information, like it's some...puzzle that I have to piece together." She stared at him in awe as she talked, at disbelief of what she was saying. "And you wonder why I can't talk to you." She took one last pause before falling into her final accusation...a description that mirrored their mysteries equally in a way he'd hardly considered. He had only been half conscious of what he had been saying, all the he told her. Something would come out without him even realizing what he had said. But others...he wanted her to know, but at the same time, he didn't. While Kate nearly offered him nothing, he realized that it was like he wanted her to figure out his past for herself...so he wouldn't have to say it. She stared at him accusingly as she concluded, openly blaming him for her grievance. "I don't even know you."

Her stare lingered for a moment before falling to the ground. But Jack's eyes were still wide in disbelief, wounded. Caught. He wanted to argue; he wanted to say that she was wrong- that she knew everything about him. But what did she know, really? She knew his father was dead. She knew a couple of things Jack had mentioned about him. But that's all it was, things he had mentioned. Nothing he had explained.

"You asked me how it was I got to be this way," she watched him out of the corner of her eye as her gaze fell to the floor, her quiet but quick tone signaling a departure. "I could ask you the same thing."

The rain didn't stop her this time. She left, deciding to let herself get soaked with the wet atmosphere rather than to talk this out with him...though he didn't know what he would have said. There was so much to tell...so much he had never told. Because that life was always one he'd tried to hide. But eventually, the past would always catch up with him.

_If he based his critique of the place on what he saw from the outside looking in, Jack would have guessed there hadn't been one awkward conversation that had taken place here. This wasn't the place for families to sit around, waiting for the brave soul who would spark conversation first. For the life of him he couldn't think of why Julia would bring them here. _

_"Do you still keep up with the Red Sox?" Julia spoke up, glancing towards Jack._

_For the first time, Jack looked up from the salad he had been picking at, surprised. Part of him expected for the conversation to remain quiet, assuming that she was leaving it up to one of them to pick a topic to talk about. Jack shrugged._

_"Somewhat."_

_She nodded, taking a bite of her salad. Neither Jack nor his father had eaten anything. Jack glanced towards his father, who was looking down, staring vacantly at his food. Like he wasn't even there. Jack turned back to his own salad. _

_"What about you?" Julia asked, nodding to Christian. "Do you still watch that one show-"_

_She didn't get to finish. Slamming his fist down on the table, Christian jumped up, storming off before either could stop him. Jack looked up to Julia, both incredulous and triumphant. While he would have never expected his father to make such a scene in public, he had been correct assuming he wouldn't be happy with Julia's set up. Residents at the tables around them watched as Julia, now less calm and casual, stood up from the table, expression firm and stiff as she followed Christian down a back hallway. She didn't have to go far to catch him, and Jack could see their conversation from where he sat. Everyone around him went back to their lunch, but Jack's concentration was fixed on straining to hear his father's voice and what he was saying._

_"What the hell are you doing?" Julia demanded in a loud whisper._

_"What the hell were you thinking?" Christian exclaimed, not bothering to keep his own voice down._

_"He's your son," Julia said, incredulous, "you need to be supportive of him!"_

_"'Supportive of him'?"Christian retorted angrily. "He should have been supportive of me! He knew exactly what he was doing."_

_Julia stared at him, mouth agape. Jack's breathing grew shallow as he listened, realizing his father's reasoning. _

_"You think he did this on purpose?" Julia realized, staring at Christian in disbelief. Christian's silence gave her her answer. "You think he did this to get back at you? You think he wanted you to lose your job?" Again, Christian didn't answer. Julia shook her head. "You're his father." She crossed her arms, almost shaking, as though disturbed about what she was going to say. "At least Jack's able to realize that."_

_Jack held his breath. It had been an opinion that had remain unspoken amongst the two of them- Jack and Julia. Or at least it was a conclusion Julia had drawn herself. If he had thought Christian was a good father, why would Jack always feel the need to run to her for support? It had been more of a subconsious desicion on Jack's part, knowing there was somewhere he could go; but as he grew older, there would be those moments when Christian would seem to come back down to earth and really take on the father role. There were a few times when Jack realized his father had good intentions when he'd give advice- advice that would actually make sense. But when he thought back, Jack honestly couldn't be sure if the past and present could cancel each other out. _

_"Then he needs to realize that he's my son."_

_Julia's eyes softened with the realization of what Christian was saying, taking something out of the comment that Jack clearly hadn't been able to decipher. Because when she turned around, Jack was gone._

_----_

_She found him on a pier, hands resting on a railing as he looked out to the ocean across from him. She stopped, watching him as he watched the sea, not aware that she was there until her footsteps drew forward towards him. He let her stand beside him, waiting patiently for him to take his attention away from the sea long enough to acknowledge her desire for conversation._

_"You know what this means, right?" He spoke up at last. He glanced towards her, almost amused. "You coming after me?"_

_Julia smiled sadly._

_"I'm on you're side now," she admitted._

_Jack snorted._

_"I love the enthusiasm." He glanced towards Julia, offering her a smile of sympathy. "Don't worry-" Jack turned back to the sea. "Winning isn't everything. You'll learn that on this side."_

_She studied him, puzzled by the comment. _

_"You know that's not true," she scolded, frowning in concern. "You can't give up. Did you hear what he said in there?"_

_Jack snorted again, shaking his head. There was nothing his father said in there that could make the situation any better._

_"Yeah," Jack replied sarcastically, bitter, "that I'm out to get him. That this cruel...evil...side of me finally came out."_

_He had to smile...he couldn't even begin to picture himself as evil. What was that cruel side about him that others saw that he didn't?_

_Julia's hand brushed against his arm as she turned to face him._

_"You know that's not true," she said again, smiling, amused herself._

_"Yeah..." Jack trailed off, the comic relief gone, "he doesn't think that."_

_Julia's expression softened, as it had many times before, in sympathy. He felt so helpless, so confused. He didn't know what he should do or if there was anything left to do. _

_"It'll be okay," she assured him for the umpteenth time, "he'll come around. He isn't this...stubborn."_

_"Then you don't know my father," Jack declared. He turned to Julia, as though daring her to argue._

_Hand rested on the railing, Julia hesitated before turning to the sea. She lingered there for a moment, contemplating what she needed to say. Jack waited, slightly curious. What argument did she have left? How could any ounce of her consious still be on his father's side? His father hated him. It was that simple. He was probably back at the restaurant, figuring out how to leave their check in Jack's name._

_"I think he's more frustrated with himself than anything," Julia mused, staring thoughtfully out to sea, "he hates that he's wrong."_

_"He doesn't know he's-"_

_"Stop being stubborn!" Julia exclaimed, glaring at Jack, clearly frustrated. He returned the stare._

_"Me being stubborn?" Jack shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe this. What the hell-"_

_"Look at it from his point of view."_

_Julia cut him off so short he was forced to turn to her, forced to consider her suggestion. _

_"What happened?" Julia went on._

_Jack studied her for a moment, hesitant to tell the story again. He searched for her answer, a dreadful feeling overcoming him as he pieced the story together from his father's point of view. Sighing, he began._

_"It was a carcrash victim," he started slowly. Jack turned back to the sea, letting his arms rest on the safety of the rail. "The operation...it wasn't going well." Jack paused, remembering what happened next. "I got a call from upstairs. It was a nurse. She was saying...she was saying his hands were shaking. And I just knew..." Jack looked up, meeting eyes with Julia, "he'd been drinking at lunch." He then looked down, as though embarrased- or maybe disapointed. "It's happened before." Jack swallowed as the story became more difficult to tell. Knowing that the ending wasn't a happy one, knowing the tragic fate that awaited the tale, and knowing there was nothing he could do to change it, just made it that less easy to tell. "And I couldn't let it happen again. The patient died...and I couldn't let that happen again."_

_He turned to Julia, once again in a challenging way. Part of that, he hadn't told her. She had assumed that therapy worked, that this was a fluke. But things were just as bad now as they had been when she left. And Jack couldn't let things get any worse...especially when the consequences were on their patients. _

_He almost even felt guilty for leaving her in the dark from the complete truth. Julia looked pale. Her face had turned white with horrific realization, and she fought to get her words out:_

_"You did it on purpose," she whispered, sounding sick._

_Jack looked down to the salty waters beneath them, feeling more guilty than triumphant._

_"I had to," he admitted, struggling to find his voice. Tears stung at his eyes. "No, I didn't want to ruin his life or his career...but he was just so messed up, and I just knew he wasn't going to get better." He swallowed, wishing he could be stronger than this. But this was the truth. His walls of denial were faltering. This was his fault...all of it. It was he who should be appologizing. "I should of had more faith in him, I should of..." he trailed off. There was too much he should of done. "But he lied to me and tried to manipulate me into thinking it was okay. But it wasn't, and I knew it could happen again." He was struggling more and more to keep himself together. This was the confession that had been waiting to surface. This was the anger boiling within him. He thought he'd been right- and he had- but still...the consequence was just so drastic he was no longer sure being right and doing the right thing was worth it. "I did this to him. This is my fault. I-"_

_"Jack-" Julia began, raising a hand to his arm. He jerked away._

_"I'm sorry," he went on, mind racing in realization. Now he could see how Julia could be on his father's side. Now he could see how there were people at work who were angry with him. How had he been so blind to what had really happened and his true intentions? How had he been able to ignore it, to manipulate the story to prove his own innocence? He was just as guilty as his father was. "I did this to him, I did this..."_

_Before he believed that nothing good his father did in the present could disregard the bad he had done in the past. But did he really deserve to have his life ruined like this? Everything his father had was taken from him in one moment. His career, his friends. Who deserved that? Maybe Jack was cruel if he could let himself do that to someone. Was the greater good really worth what he did to his father?_

_"You did the right thing," Julia said in attempts to comfort him. But it had to be just an act. She was just adapting to the situation, as she would have had to do whenever she was around either Jack or his father. "You were right, it could have happened again." _

_"How does this help him?" Jack shot back. He shook his head. "I took away everything he lived for." _

_"You're a doctor," Julia began, urging him back towards his original thinking now. "You know how much one life means and the other lives you could have saved by telling the truth..." she was almost smiling with her reasoning, "Jack, you made the right decision."_

_Weary-eyed and exhausted from his breakdown, Jack's eyes diverted to her, drained from confession and weak from confusion. _

_"Then what were you trying to tell me earlier?" He inquired._

_Julia looked relieved at his agreeing to listen._

_"He's just frustrated," she said, with more emphasis than before, "he's angry with himself. Not with you."_

_For an honest moment he considered her theory. It could explain the distance. His father had been angry at Jack before, but he had never completely ignored him. But if Jack had been right, why did he feel so guilty? _

_"You'll be okay," Julia assured him. Reaching up, she brushed her hand against his arm. "It'll all make sense someday. Someday...someday it'll all be over."_

_"But it isn't," Jack cut in, eyes turning to her, sans hope and full of helplessness and frustration. "All my life, nothing's ever changed..." It had happened with Julia, with Sarah... '"in the end, everything's just as bad as it was to begin with." _

_"But if you can get through this," Julia pointed out, "this can all be over."_

_Jack half-smiled with that hope._

_"'Someday'," he said, quoting her previous thoughts, voice fading into the distant dream of the future._

_With sympathy Julia returned the smile, a hand holding his shoulder supportively. A moment of peaceful silence passed between them as the soft waves below lapped in a calming pace of reassurance, letting Jack recover from his emotional breakdown. He attempted to match the serene breathing of the ocean, letting himself be free of the turmoil of the day. He only let a few thoughts in at a time, allowing all theories a chance to rest. Though evidence had it that Julia's hopeful suggestion would never come true, a chance for change was always worth dreaming of._

He winced as he fletched his foot, the scar on his ankle stretching as the muscle cried out in pain. Relaxing his ankle, Jack allowed himself a few moments of rest before repeating the exercise: flexing his foot and watching in pain as the injured bone begged for relief. At last he dropped his foot, giving both himself and his ankle that relief.

"Unfortuently torturing yourself is part of physical therapy," a quiet voice commented. Jack looked up. Kate was lingering by the doorway, an empty bottle of water in hand. She offered him a small smile. Jack returned the smile, teeth gritted in pain.

"How do you know about physical therapy?" Jack asked curiously, noting her correct judgment.

She didn't answer him, only letting her smile fade. She crossed the room, knealing down when she reached the waterfall.

"I only needed some water," she declared. Yet she was the one who sparked conversation.

"At least I didn't have to follow you this time," Jack said, acknowledge her return. He went back to the physical therapy excersie and attempts to ignore the pain.

"You don't follow me," Kate noted quietly, "you look for me. I run, I know." She smiled sadly, adding: "Bad habbit."

Relaxing his ankle, Jack looked to the ground. The comment brought them back to their most recent fight. Why was it so hard for her to talk to him? And at the same time, why did he want her to talk so badly? Jack swallowed. At least one of them could come clean.

"Before my father died, we hadn't talked for two months," Jack began. He vowed to keep himself together, determined for Kate to hear the point of the story.

"You told me that before," Kate cut in, reminding him, a hint of sadness in her voice.

Jack grimaced. Another piece of the puzzle. Maybe she had been right about him.

"We had been fighting and..." he swallowed. Still, even when he'd lived with this story for months, it was hard live with. And now the guilt...Shaking his mind of the guilt, Jack forced himself to continue on with the point of the story. "Whatever you did..." Jack held his breath for a moment. "I'm no saint either."

A quiet paused followed, only for Kate to quickly retort a moment later:

"You don't know me," she accused coldly. Yet her quiet tone still spoke that same sense of offense from before.

He looked at her, serious, pained by the truth.

"You don't know me either." He looked down. He was negating his own message. Jack shook his head. "We can't afford to fight." He caught a glimpse of Kate's reaction out of the corner of his eye. She was listening. "We've got to stick together."

She didn't answer him right away. Still from the corner of the eye he watched as she sat considering his words. He could only hope she'd agree...he couldn't let history repeat itself.

"Okay."

He had to smile at the barely audible agreement. Jack nodded his head, repeating her answer, confirming his own opinion:

"Okay."

_Friday night I'm going nowhere_

_All the lights are changing green to red_

Truthfully, the night alone at the caves had haunted him. The coffin still sitting in the far room disturbed his thoughts in the silence of the darkness, taunting him with his own memories. He didn't deserve this, he thought. He needed closure. He needed this to be...gone. Done. Over. He didn't have a body, and thus the coffin would never go anywhere. Unless he did something with it.

He found the axe in the fuselage, hidden amongst a flood of abandoned luggage. The flight attendents probably hoped to never have a reason to use it and probably never did. Now at least the air line would get its money worth. The heavy axe rested on his shoulder, Jack crept up to the coffin.

_Turning over TV stations_

_Situations running through my head_

When he reached the coffin he stopped. An image of the world that never was came back to him, and Jack thought of his original plans. If he had been able to bury his father back in the real world, where would he be right now? How would he have reacted? Would he have cried? Would he have visited the grave, marking the day, the week, the third week anniversary of his father's death? Or would he have tried to ignore it, taking detour routes whenever it was necessary to pass by that graveyard?

_Well looking back through time_

_You know it's clear that I've been blind_

_I've been a fool_

How hard would it have been to find closure then? All he seemed to be able to do now was blame himself and hate himself...hate everything. He would sit up nights wondering the different ways the situation could have gone.

_To ever open up my heart_

_To all that jealousy,_

_that bitterness,_

_that ridicule_

He would never know if Julia was right. Did he do the right thing? Was his father simply frustrated and angry with himself? Or was she just trying to be sympathetic, knowing that Jack was truthfully wrong? All through this, how did his father really feel? Did he ever regret the actions he took and how he chose to react?

Tears stung at his eyes. To think that he'd never know, that no one would ever know. The isolation would make it feel as though he'd never have a taste of the real world again...that it was all hopeless.

Jack raised the axe.

_Saturday I'm running wild_

_And all the lights are changing red to green_

The beach had become deathly quiet at night. It was so easy to forget yourself out here, to lose yourself in that world away from reality. That dream. But she had to leave it behind. Jack was right, they had to stick together. If they wanted to survive, they had to stick together. Working solemnly, Kate began to pack some remaining luggage into a bag.

_Moving through the crowd I'm pushing_

_Chemicals all rushing through my bloodstream_

Her feet swept the leaves away from the trail as she walked to the caves. The vacant beach was safely packed away in the back of her mind, a dreamworld ready to visit whenever necessary.

Though the caves were still a few feet up ahead, Kate already heard sounds detecting its existance. But it wasn't the sound of the waterfall, or even of the jungle life surrounding it. Someone was choking back a sob, breathing heavily as they desperately attempted to control their emotions. Jack.

_Only wish that you were here_

_You know I'm seeing it so clear_

_I've been afraid_

She rested against the cave wall beside the entrance, listening. She held her breath and closed her eyes, only to reopen them in moments, in shock. She could hear him crying, could hear the tears fall down his cheeks.

_To tell you how I really feel_

_Admit to some of those bad mistakes I've made_

But inside the caves, Jack took no notice of Kate's presence outside. Leaning against the wall just as she had done, with only the thick rock separate them and their emotions, Jack tried desperately to pull himself together. He could do this. He could make it on this island. He wanted so badly to be able to deal with this but instead left himself surrendered to the silent darkness of the caves' night.

_If you want it_

_Come and get it_

_Crying out loud_

That's when she stepped into the caves. Somewhere beyond his emotions he heard her footsteps and looked up to see her staring at him, sad and sympathetic. Bringing a hand to his forehead, Jack closed his eyes, determined now more than ever to pull himself together. As his tears faded away, he noticed the bag she was carrying on her shoulder.

"Going somewhere?" He asked, voice hoarse. He remembered the axe was still in his hand. Casually he tossed it to the opposite hand, sitting it against the wall across from him.

"You're right," Kate announced. The darkness hid Jack's reaction as he turned, listening intently. "We've got to stick together."

_The love that I was_

_Giving you was_

_Never in doubt_

"You're moving in?" Jack asked, with too much hope for his liking. With Kate here, he thought, maybe he wouldn't be so vulnerable to these breakdowns. Being alone had been nothing but a punishment for his faults, and he felt he'd served his time.

"Unless it's a bad time," Kate added, eyes diverting quickly to the each. Jack was thankful for the dark, which hid the presence of the coffin. He shook his head.

"There's another cave in the back," he offered, "it should be fine."

A small smile escaped Kate.

"Should be until you're burying me out of a cave-in," she replied. She was only teasing, but suddenly Jack was doubting himself. He'd hope Kate moving up here would mean not having to worry about her as much, some sort of pre-guilt consuming him with the thought of leaving her. She offered him another smile. "I'll check it out."

Jack nodded. He assumed Kate would head that way, but instead she lingered, eyes still locked on him. He suddenly felt self-conscious as she stared at him, realizing how he must of appeared were it to be light out.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked quietly.

_Let go your heart_

_Let go your head_

_And feel it now_

He blinked. Stray tears escaped his eyes. He hated appearing so helpless, and he knew the only burden of Kate moving to the caves would be that he'd have to learn to keep himself together, to remain strong.

"Yeah."

Turning away, Jack bit his lip to keep his lie together. He'd have to be okay. They had to survive here...they had to move on.

She offered him a smile of sympathy. Little did he know, his lies were all too easy to read.

_Babylon, Babylon_

_Sunday all the lights of London Shining ,_

_Sky is fading red to blue_

He was completely oblivious to the rest of the world as he packed the groceries into the trunk. It felt so surreal to consider that life still had to move on. He still had to eat, still had to pay the bills. Time should stop for depression, he thought. Because when it was over with, you'd want nothing but that time back.

"Jack?"

His head jerked around at the name.

"Sarah."

In awe he acknowledged her presence, face highlightened in stunned emotion. They hadn't spoken in so long...

_I'm kicking through the Autumn leaves_

_And wondering where it is _

_You might be going to_

"Jack."

This time his name came in a choked sob, tears melting in her eyes, mixing with her already tear-struck face. Still in his trance Jack went to her, arms open as though he were going to hug her, forgetting all she'd caused him.

"Sarah, what's wrong?" Jack demanded calmly, reaching hand to her shoulder. She jerked away.

"It's David," she said through tears. His expression hardened, stomach knotting with bad foreshadowing.

"'David'?" Jack repeated, feeling sick.

"I remarried," she explained. She didn't take a moment for sympathy or to even allow him to react. He just stood there, watching her tears fall, listening to her grievance as he tried to comprehend it all. "He's sick, he's...he's in Phuket. We live there part-time he's...he's..." she choked over her words as she attempted to explain herself. "They say they can't help him." Suddenly her eyes were on his, and as he met her gaze he realized what this was about. "But Jack...I know you can. I know it." Tears streamed down her cheeks as she suddenly grasps his hands, taking his palms in hers. "Please."

His mind reeled, thinking over what she was telling him. She wanted his help. She wanted him to help her new husband. The one who was in Phuket...

_Turning back for home_

_You know I'm feeling so alone_

_I can't believe_

"I can't," he said at last. Sarah sobbed, lip trembling. She was shaking even as she held onto him, her hands now gripped around his arms in attempts to hold herself steady. "It's not a good time..."

"David doesn't have time!" Sarah attempted, choking back tears to get her words out. "Please, Jack. Please..."

She fell into him, collasping into an embrace. He held her there, staring vacantly over her shoulder. He knew he was obligated to help as a doctor, and he knew that he should anyway- and he did. But it was all happening so fast...and what would happen if he left behind his father? Would he think he'd given up on him?

"Please, Jack..."

_Climbing on the stair_

_I turn around to see you smiling there_

_In front of me_

He was torn. He had to help, and yet part of him was angry at her for coming back to him like this. For forcing him back into her life. Maybe, he realized, he didn't want to be apart of it. She'd hurt him more than he would have ever thought. The experience had been practically traumitizing, to be left like that. And yet, it had merely turned out to be a sickening foreshadowing.

But he knew he couldn't live with himself if he did this to her. Already he was living with more guilt than he could handle. How many more were going to have their lives ruined by his decisions?

"Okay," he agreed.

_If you want it_

_Come and get it_

_Crying out loud_

She sobbed with relief, a sad, grateful smile forming through her tears.

"He's in Phuket," she said again, "you've got to get there...please."

_The love that I was_

_Giving you was_

_Never in doubt_

Jack closed his eyes. It'd be his first trip out of the country. There was so much he had to do, yet he knew Sarah probably wasn't lying when she said that David didn't have time. He had to get there, he had to help; and with that he promised:

"I will."

_Let go your heart_

_Let go your head_

_And feel it now_

They ate a late dinner that night. He put on a smile and laughed, but his mind was still with the coffin. It was still sitting on the far side of the caves. He hadn't butchered it. He thought it metaphortical, that at least he could bury the coffin- and bury the past. He'd do it alone and finally begin to let go. No, he wasn't trying to completely forget the past, but there were some things he needed to get over. And the guilt...the guilt was definetely one thing. So he had to do this one last thing possible for his father, and if he decided he believed in spirits, perhaps it'd truly prove to be a good favor.

_Let go your heart_

_Let go your head_

_And feel it now_

He sat waiting for the other's return. There was no campfire, just himself sitting in the middle of the jungle, camouflaging himself with the darkness. Only the sound of the other's footsteps would startle him. He didn't stand as the figure walked up to him.

"Were there any survivors?" He asked, voice low. Soon he would find out if there was anyone to hide from.

"No."

_Let go your heart_

_Let go your head_

_And feel it now_

His heart stopped. He suddenly felt sick. He didn't know what he expected, but for no survivors at all...

"It was bad," he was told. The figure sat down beside him, looking horrified. Traumatized. "The ones the managed to wash up on shore were..."

His mind was elsewhere as the sound of someone getting sick filled the jungle. The sound echoed in the back of his mind, encouraging him back towards reality. He should help, but he was already caught in his own state of shock.

_Let go your heart_

_Let go your head_

_And feel it now_

"No survivors?" He managed to ask, voice dark. Angry. How the hell did something like this happen?

"Don't make me say it again." The voice sounded sick. There was a pause as he thought on this, thought about what it meant. "Are you still gonna check the other site?"

He nodded. The other looked up to the sky.

"You better get going, then."

_Let go your heart_

_Let go your head_

_And feel it now_

He nodded again.

"Are you okay out here alone?"

The other nodded in reply. He stood. He'd have to leave now if he wanted to make it to the other site by tomorrow.

_Babylon...Babylon_

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	14. Escape

On An Island

Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen: **Escape

_She could see them laughing from here. They sat on the shore, like they were old friends, laughing. The sight disturbed her so much that Kate finally decided to approach them. Frowning, she followed her shadow to the her two friends. _

_"And then she did fall of her bike," Tom was saying, laughing. Jack snorted and laughed at the same time, looking as though if this story was to get any funnier his head would burst. "And I told her 'Katie, how many times to I have to warn you? You can't ride a bike through a cornfield?'"_

_Through his over-exaggerating laughing, Jack managed to say:_

_"What did she say."_

_"She just got back on her bike and stormed away. The cuts and bruises would cover her hands for weeks." Tom shook his head. "She always was stubborn."_

_At last Jack ceased his laughter long enough to agree._

_"Yeah," he nodded, and looked out to sea just as Kate approached them._

_"What's so funny?" She inquired, though she had heard the whole thing. That was it then. They had been out here swapping stories about her all morning. The sick feeling of betrayel was strong enough to nearly top any phsyical pain she had suffered on the island._

_"Nothing," both men said in unison._

_Kate just stood there, staring at them with her hands on her hips._

_"No, really," she insisted, "I want to know."_

_Tom looked up at her, as if offended._

_"Geesh, Katie," he said. He got to his feet. "What happened to your sense of humor?"_

_"Maybe it crashed along with that bike," Jack laughed. Tom imitated him, and the two laughed right there in her face for a good few moments._

_Mouth agape, Kate watched them in disbelief. These two were supposed to be on her side. What right did they have to sit there and mock her?_

_"See you later, man," Tom said._

_"Yeah," Jack agreed. He looked back out to sea as Tom walked off, shaking his head with a final laugh. He didn't wait long before carrying on, ignoring her distrubed reaction. "That guy's hilarious. Where'd you find him?"_

_She didn't answer. She was afraid if she did she would yell and say somethings she wouldn't regret saying later. She really was angry with the two of them, and she didn't want to be. So she kept her mouth closed, waiting to see what else Jack would say. But instead of continuing the conversation, he just stood up._

_"You okay?" He asked her, looking her in the eye. And suddenly he was all serious again, like joking about her like that wasn't supposed to hurt. Since Tom was around to hang out with, Jack had developed this alternate side of himself. His sense of humor had turned...horrible. And he didn't realize it. Tom had turned out to be the same way- he was nothing like she remembered him being. _

_But even Kate couldn't believe it when she admitted:_

_"No," she took a deep breath, "I'm not okay."_

_Jack sighed and looked down. His guilty demeanor was almost believable._

_"Look," he began, and looked up to meet her eyes again, "just promise me one thing, okay? Never believe that this happened for a reason."_

_She blinked. But that had been exactly what they'd believe. This had been their theory, all this time._

_"Don't believe all that meant to be crap or anything," he went on. Then he held her shoulders as he said: "Okay?"_

_She didn't agree. _

_"Come on Kate," he punched her in the shoulder, playfully, like the guys did in the movies she saw where'd they'd be hanging out, watching the game, drinking beer, and having conversations about girls they'd rather not have their mothers walk in on. Jack wasn't one of those guys. This wasn't him. "I'll catch up with you later, alright?"_

_She didn't realize she had nodded in agreement until after Jack had gone. Hands still on her hips, Kate watched him walk off into the distance, and she waited until his shadow was only a spot on the ground before she began to shout:_

_"Jack!" She screamed. Tears began to swell in her eyes. "Jack!"_

_She shouted his name over and over again. Her throat began to turn sore and tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she didn't care. She just called his name, over and over again. But he never did answer._

She shot up from her dream. She could feel the sweat dripping from her forehead before she touched it, wiping her face with a hand. A blanket had fallen off of her from where she lay on the ground. For a moment she could hardly think and could only breathe heavily, trying to comprehend what had just happened. It had been her first dream with Jack in it. But it wasn't a dream...it had been a nightmare. She had felt it; the fear was still in her as she attempted to catch her breath, hand rested on her forehead.

She thought to turn her head, but instead of seeing the familar beach she was used to waking up on, she could see Jack through the entrance of her caves. He was sitting what looked like food on some kind of makeshift shelf of suitcases. He glanced over to her, looking pretty blank in his reaction.

"You okay?" He asked. She shuddered as she remembered the same question being asked to her in her dream.

"Yeah," she lied. Then she began to panic. At the end of her nightmare she had been calling for Jack- loudly. Desperately. Had he heard that? "Did I say anything?"

"In your sleep?" Jack said. He shook his head. "No, not that I heard."

She breathed a sigh of relief and whispered to herself:

"Good."

Though she was fully-awake she didn't feel like getting up just yet. Drawing her knees to her chest, Kate hugged herself, trying not to consider how obvious her lie was. She remembered how hurt she had been in her nightmare by Jack's words: _"Never believe that this happened for a reason"_. She had cried when he had walked away. And Tom...why was he haunting her like this? Why would he tell her one thing and then appear in a nightmare that told her the complete opposite? Which was she supposed to believe?

She shivered. Now she had to be afraid that she was believing hallucinations.

"Here," Jack said suddenly. She turned from her thoughts just in time to see him toss an orange her way. He looked back to the shelf, which from where she sat actually looked half-empty. Maybe they didn't have as much food as they thought...or maybe it was all going bad. Jack shook his head, his hands rested on his hips, and proclaimed seriously: "We need more food."

Kate couldn't help but to smile. In the nightmare she had thought Jack was acting strangely...like someone at a party. She must have laughed at the thought.

"What?" Jack inquired.

She realized that she was acting just as he had been in the dream now...mocking someone. Smile fading, she quickly grew serious again, the memory of the dream still puzzling her.

"Nothing," she replied, and continued to eat the orange.

_Up here it seemed like there was nothing to worry about. There was- and you were more than welcomed to think about it- but up here, space was your own. On this hill that overlooked nothing but more hills and more land, there were endless possibilities. One could come up with the idea for the great American novel or the solution to their rocky marriage. The latter was too close to the thoughts on the hill that night._

_Kate didn't want to forgive him. She wanted to be furious with him for leaving her like he did- especially knowing that he was going to have to leave again soon. She hated having the games played with her heart, but the good simaritan on her shoulder knew there was no one to blame but herself. She was the one who didn't call. She was the one who was keeping secrets. And it was she who was sitting on this hill now, her head rested on Tom's shoulder, absorbing this world of possible thought._

_"You can come back with me."_

_She looked up to Tom. He had been thinking too...it was something she had dreamed about but never considered in reality. They could move away, buy a house. She'd be the wife of a doctor and looked up to as someone turning their life around, putting the past behind them. Tom met her eyes._

_"I mean it," he went on, "they might have rooms for married couples at school, and-"_

_"You want to get married?" Never mind the fact that she wasn't even attending medical school. Her eyes widened with a shocked glow, only part in hope and mostly in fear. _

_Tom stared at her as though he was hearing this for the first time. For a moment the fear past between them, reality engulfing them before they fought their way towards dream._

_"I should have been there for you," he began._

_"You didn't know," Kate said quietly._

_Tom shook his head._

_"I shouldn't have left you," he said, "and now I've got this life and...it's great." She stared at him, hurt. Then why the hell did he come back? If their small town and surviving friendship wasn't good enough for him, why did he come back? "But you're not there."_

_Her expression softened. Hand rested on his arm, Kate searched his eyes for the truth. But there was no change, no hint of guilt. This was what he wanted, and she wanted it too, but..._

_"I can't leave," she whispered. The painful reality was true: she had too much of an obligation to stay here. "My mom, I can't..." _

_She shook her head, desperately shaking away the thought of leaving her mom with her step-father._

_"I can't leave her," she looked back up to Tom, her eyes wet with tears. She wanted this badly, she wanted a life with Tom, but she couldn't leave her mother. Not in this situation. Not ever._

_Kate's tears only made Tom's expression harden, anger flaring in his eyes._

_"Did he hurt you?" Tom inquired. Kate shook her head. No, he hadn't. "Katie..."_

_"He didn't know!" Kate exclaimed. Up here, it was easy to forget what was to remain secret and what could be shouted to the world. Up here, the two became one. "But if I leave her I know she'll give up, I'm all she has to live for!"_

_To her surprise, and even distaste, Tom chuckled. She started to lash out at him when he explained:_

_"That's a confident statement."_

_She knew he meant this as comic relief, but the charm didn't work. She didn't know if he understood or not, but she couldn't take this. Standing up, she shook her head. She couldn't take the heartbreak of knowing they could never be together, not if Tom ever wanted to have anything good going for his career. And she couldn't be angry at him for wanting that. Yet here she was, a year out of high school with no plans except to stay at home and listen to her mother's stories about running into walls and nearly crashing the car. But someone had to be there for her, someone had to keep their familiy- for what it was worth- together._

_"Kate," Tom called after her. She just shook her head again, already leaving. She just wanted him to go ahead and be gone. She didn't want this false hope of a future or knowing what could be. She'd never run and she'd never leave...she couldn't...no matter what the personal cost was._

----

Black and white. Even before her attempt at 'fun' had become so pathetic that even the game pieces on the bored seemed to be falling asleep, the color choice had stuck out to her more than anything. Why black and white? Just like the rocks she found.

"If you were that bored, you could've just told me," Jack remarked behind her.

His face appeared beside her as he kneeled to the ground. He looked better than he did yesterday: he was dry now, though he still looked like he could use a few more hours of sleep,

"Huh?" Kate asked, looking up to him briefly.

Jack grinned.

"Your imaginary friend," Jack explained, pointing to the empty space across from her. Kate looked to where he was pointing, but didn't answer. "What's its name?"

Kate smiled sadly, speaking the first name that came to mind:

"Tom."

His name had always stayed with her, though she never liked to use it, not when she was on the run. She hadn't wanted that part of her life to be apart of him. She didn't want him to know that he had failed in trying to save her, protect her. That was almost a positive consequence of his death, if such an idea was even possible.

But here, on the island, she was technically no longer on the run.

Jack smiled and turned to the empty spot across from her, as though someone were really there.

"Mind if I have a seat?" He asked the empty spot, actually waiting a second before sitting down.

Again she smiled sadly, considering the meaning. It was like he was replacing Tom, taking his place. Now being the one to want to protect her, suceed in everyway Tom couldn't. Little would Jack know how difficult that would be. After Tom it had been so hard for her to accept that kind of help from anyone else, and still she didn't know if she could.

Jack stared down at the bored, eyes wondering over the way the game was set up. She wondered if he noticed the black and white as well or if it was just something that stuck out only to her.

"So are you winning?" Jack teased.

Kate smiled. They had been competitive as kids, as many games of _Go Fish_ and _Red Light, Green Light _Kate won, Tom was equally as good of a competitor. He had to be, growing up with Kate as a friend.

"I am," she announced proudly. Tom hated it if she'd let him win.

"Can I play winner?" Jack offered.

She looked up at him, studying him. At last she smiled.

"Sure."

----

Kate quickly decided that she was the winner of her and Tom's game of backgammon; and while she wasn't too sure about letting Tom and Jack meet up in the same playdate, she decided to give Jack a chance. They were already well into their game, minds deep into strategy, burying themselves in concentration.

"So what's your move, Doctor?" Kate teased.

Jack glared, signaling that he was still thinking. At last he picked up his white piece, simply placing it over her black one, scooping it up in his hand. She snorted.

"This isn't _Checkers_, Jack," she said.

He didn't look amused.

"You're telling me you understand this?" He said incredulously.

"I'm learning," Kate grinned.

They had picked up the game a few times before, but now it was becoming really competitive- even if they hardly knew what they were dooing. Studying the board, Kate contemplated her next move.

"Maybe we should find something we're actually good at," Jack commented dryly.

"You're just a sore loser," Kate teased, grinning as she moved her game pieces.

"How do you know you're winning?" Jack inquired, resting in head in his chin.

"I just do," Kate smiled, "your turn."

Jack sighed, looked at the game board, and pushed it away.

"You were one of those kids who didn't eat their vegetables, weren't you?" Kate teased, eyes twinkling.

Jack stood up.

"I'm gonna go for a run," he announced. Kate watched, waiting, and smiled sympathetically when he remembered his ankle: "Or walk."

Kate laughed and began to pick up the _Backgammon_ game.

"You're boring," she teased, standing up.

"Excuse me?" Jack retorted, a grin on his face.

"You run away from fun like a mailman runs away from dogs," she said.

Jack still grinned despite the insult.

"Well sorry if I'm not as gung-ho about playing board games and swimming in lakes filled with dead bodies as you are," he shot lightly.

Kate was still grinning as well.

"Seriously, though," she said, "we need something to do around here before we go crazy trying to figure out _Backgammon_ plays."

Jack laughed.

"Yeah, good luck with that," he offered in the same tone someone offered to a child planning a lemonade stand. He would walk away, or rather, limp away- as he was doing now- and laugh- also as he was doing now, because unfortuently surviving on an island also meant being left to do with nothing but that- surviving.

----

Kate was still thinking about this later, especially as Jack's cleaning and rearranging habbits left the caves as spotless as before, if possible. In that case she couldn't see him as someone who could stand a bloody operation table or ripped open body parts. But she supposed cleaning was theraputic to him, as well as it gave him something to do.

"Where's Vincent?" Kate asked, noticing the dog was missing. She was sitting on the floor reading _Watership Down_, a book she had found in the wreckage, but found her mind wondering elsewhere instead. The book was drenched with dry water; she had found it soaked and floating on shore. The words smeared together, and plots became meaningless loops of story. She attempted to put up a fight against the book's sore condition, but it would realistically take nearly a week to struggle through the story. When she did read, Kate was used to finishing books in two or three days of time.

Jack shrugged.

"He's around here somewhere."

Looking away, Kate didn't realize how helpless she seemed until Jack glanced at her, concerned. He pointed to the waterfall nearby.

"It doesn't matter how long you wait," he began, "that water's not going to boil."

A laugh escaped her.

Jack stepped away from the prescription bottles he had been rearranging and took a step towards her.

"What are you reading?" He asked, curious.

Kate turned the book over. Jack nodded.

"Interesting," he commented lightly. She laughed at his sarcasm and tossed the book towards him. He studied the back cover, as best as he could make the words out, and added: "I'll pass."

He handed the book back to her.

"There's more to literature than text books and medical journals," Kate pointed out, amused.

"Hey," Jack said defensively, "I'm in some of those journals." He stopped, realizing what he had said. She watched him, waiting for him to explain. But he just turned, walking back to his side of the cave. "Yeah..."

Still she watched him. She was interested in not only what his reply would have been but why he was shy about admitting it. All he had told her about his career was that he worked in surgery, mainly in neurology. But he didn't offer any further explanation.

"We do need something to do," Kate spoke up, bringing back her early topic. "If we're not gonna talk..." He turned to her so quickly Kate looked to the ground to hide. She forced herself to continue, speaking lightly: "Maybe we can start a book club."

Jack snorted, becoming comical again. He was someone, she observed, who could change with the course of the conversation. But he was always there to remind you of those topics left forgotten.

"Of course the problem with that is," he said, "once one of us reads a book and tells the other about it, it spoils it for the other person."

Kate smiled a little.

"True," she agreed, "but what do you think?"

"Unless it includes building a coffee shop...have fun, but we're on an island Kate," he shook his head, "unfortuently it didn't come with a babysitter-survival kit."

Kate didn't laugh at his example. As much as being able to just sit and think was a relief, it was a burden as well. There was nothing they could do on this island could make up for their past. There was no redemption here. A second chance, maybe, but even a billion second chances didn't erase the entire past. She needed a distraction. Lately all the island had been doing was providing constant reminder of the things she had done in the past, the people she had hurt. She knew the things she had done and was sorry for them. She was sorry for the people she had hurt. But no second chance could take away the things she had done.

----

_There was one long road that led out of her town. Sometimes she liked to walk down it and stand- just off the exit- thinking that one more step and she could be out of there. One more step and she'd be free. And today she was on that road again. Last night had been yet another sleepless night as she contemplated Tom's marriage proposal. She laughed to herself, almost chuckling cruely as she considered how that sounded. She begun to pace back and forth._

_She had decided that if she was going to stay here, there had to be a goal she needed to reach._

_Her and her mom just couldn't live here forever._

_There had to be something she could do._

_Behind her, a red pickup pulled up. Kate winced as the dust flew in the wind but didn't turn to see who it was._

_"Funny place to hitchhike." It was Tom._

_Kate let out a dry laugh but didn't answer_

_"Just get in the car." He threw open the passenger side door._

_"If I scream will you go away?" Kate shot, arms crossed as she looked away. _

_Tom stared at her. As though she shouldn't be angry. Or confussed. Or afraid. He jumped out of the car and stepped towards her._

_"I don't have much time here," Tom said. He looked towards the sun. "Classes start Monday."_

_She didn't answer him. She stared away, gazing towards the fields that greeted her before passing on with the exit. When they were kids they used to run in those fields before walking to the next town. For her thirteenth's birthday a neighbor even let her ride a horse through those fields...and for years following that horse would become her second-best friend._

_"Katie, please," Tom pleaded, "don't not say something that you'll regret-"_

_"I need a plan!" Kate exclaimed, spinning around. She stared at him with desperate eyes, begging for the hope of success. If she could get him to help, if she could come up with something...this could work. They could get out of here. "I need to get my mother and I out of here." They'd never had the opportunity to leave before. They'd never known someone from...the outside who could help them. "Please..."_

_Tom stared at her, wide eyed. Helping her he'd been prepared and was capable of doing but taking in a mother and daughter? Hiding them from their Hell of a family life? Protecting them? She knew she was asking so much, but if she didn't do something now then she had no reason to complain and every reason to begin feeling sorry for herself- for everyone- sorry that she couldn't help them. Sorry that after all these years she hadn't really done a single damn thing._

_"I don't know, Katie-"_

_"We've got to get out of here!" Her lips trembled as she faught to defend herself. But she couldn't go on. She'd thought too much about it last night. This was their chance. The chance for her and her mother. For her and Tom. _

_She tried to understand that he couldn't give her an answer. As he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around, she even rest her head against his chest, fighting tears away as she tried to forget that she wanted her answer. Instead she just englufed the moment, listening and breathing it in- the comforting air around her, the rapid beating of Tom's heart as he considered this life-changing offer, the occasional car from distant roads. The sun illuminating them in this painting as they stood in the middle, him holding her as she lay her head against his beating heart, beating rapidly...rapidly..._

_Kate slowly lifted her head. Beating too rapidly. She took a step back as she stared at him, trembling with fear as he watched her, confused at first, and then..._

_His body went limp. Blood slowly fell from his nose as his head nodded to the side. Her once slow and worried breathing became rapid with terror. She was breathing rapidly...rapidly. Until she screamed._

_And it all blew up in front of her._

A scream fled from her nightmare as Kate shot up from her sleep. Elsewhere, something fell and crashed to the ground. Her hand flew to her mouth in realization: it had all been a dream. A cruel memory that had somehow slipped into nightmare.

"Kate?" Jack's tired but concerned voice called from his cave.

She let her hand fall from her mouth in order to answer him, but her face was still contorted in a stunned disbelief:

"I'm fine."

Her heart beat rapidly-

_rapidly, rapidly..._

She shook the word out of her thoughts. Kicking away her blanket, Kate stood. Still petrified from the nightmare, Kate shook as she walked towards the crash.

"What was that?" Jack asked.

She assumed he meant the crash. She was almost grateful for it. Her face felt like it was matted with tears from her dream; the sound of the exploding comfort of that painted picture of the dream still ringing in her ears. She needed to get away. It was the first time she regretted moving to the caves. She knew that every night she wouldn't be able to run from her horrible dreams into the jungle like she could sit and stare at the dark, silent, sea or the distant moon at the beach.

"I'm gonna check it out," Kate said.

His feet scrambled to the floor, but she went ahead anyway.

"Kate-" Jack called after her.

She ignored him. Of anything, she had to get out of there. She was having the delated feeling of suffocation after waking from her nightmare only to find herself trapped within tight walls. The dream felt too real there. On the beach the dream felt so surreal, and after contemplating it for awhile, there was even the possibility that it hadn't happened.

The thought that she didn't even know what she was looking for didn't hit her until she was a few feet from the jungle, staring blankly into the jungle as Jack followed, calling her name. She walked as though she were in a trance, following some glowing tunnel that was supposed to bring her hope. Instead her feet crashed into something hard on the ground. Jack caught her before she lost her balance, and it wasn't until she was shifting away from his gripped that they both saw what she had tripped on: a golf bag. They both breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm going back to bed," Jack muttered, exhaustion running through his raspy voice once more. Running a hand over his head, Jack turned, lazily beginning to stumble back to the caves. She wondered if he had been having a dream worth dreaming, one that wouldn't send the dreamer screaming for relief. Or maybe he hadn't fallen asleep at all.

But at the same time, another issue was on her mind as well.

"Where did it fall from?" Kate asked, attempting to see through the darkness above for her answer.

Jack looked to where her eyes were searching above.

"There's still some luggage up there," Jack explained, "it's some kind of mountainside."

Kate turned to him, incredulous. There was no telling what was up there- especially if it were anything like a golf bag. That meant whatever was up there wasn't part of the carry-on luggage. There could be a toy-store of bags for them to search.

"You weren't going to look?" Kate inquired.

"I can't climb up there!" Jack exclaimed. She still stared at him, stunned that he had hid this. He sighed. "We'll deal with this in the morning."

It was the final word as he waved the issue away, heading back towards the caves. Kate lingered, not only curious but less willing to go back inside. If she went back to sleep the dreams would come again. The same horrifyingly real, horrifyingly true nightmares.

Kate looked back down to the golf bag. She prodded the bag with her foot, feeling her shoe hit the clubs inside. She had been looking for something to do. Maybe this was the answer she had been waiting for.

----

"Have you ever golfed?" Kate asked Jack the next morning. He was tearing apart an orange, letting the sloppy pulp burn his hands as he prepared a breakfast. They'd proven to have been pretty good cooks- making dinners out of the snacks from the plane and fruit from the island. There was still leftover dinners, but without a way to keep them fresh, they were beginning to become unhelpful for them. They need to hunt, but neither wanted to confront the task.

"Yeah, why?" He said. He bit into the orange. She'd been offered some fruit, but she wasn't hungry. She wouldn't tell them why but kept her reviting nightmare a secret. Her heart still knotted as she thought of Tom's bleeding face, his limp figure...

She shook herself out of it.

"Because unless you're planning on killing bunnies with those golfclubs, I have an idea," she explained. The thought of her solution to her own question made her smile a little. Why not actually golf? It wasn't like they were lacking the space on the beach, even with their unwritten boundaries yards away.

"You want to golf?" Jack said, sounding both amused and puzzled.

"Do you have a better idea?" She challenged. She was already strapping a backpack to her shoulder for a trip to the beach. "By the way, I checked out that luggage on the mountainside. There's a guitar up there."

"You climbed up there?" Jack disaproved.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"I was fine."

"Yeah, and when you break you're ankle, tell me you're fine then," Jack said. Kate just shook her head, turning around to grab a bottle of water.

"I'm gonna go ahead and take the clubs to the beach," Jack still didn't look convinced, "hey, golf can always be a one-player game."

He looked away, contemplating. She chose not to ask why this was such a big decision for him. If he did come, she could only hope that the game would prove to be somewhat fun and not just exchanging turns to hit golf balls and awkward silence.

"Okay," he finally agreed.

"Great," Kate said, her hope still in mind. "Only one rule, though."

"What?"

"I go first."

----

Kate smiled as her golf ball sailed through the air, landing in the sand feet passed their 'hole'. Using his hand to shield the sun away, Jack watched the ball land.

"Nice," he commented, "I'm almost impressed."

Kate laughed and picked up another ball.

"Your turn," she anonnuced. He looked at her uncertainly. "Come on, Jack, I've gone the times. It's your turn." He still didn't say anything. "What's the problem?"

"I just don't want to make you feel bad when I do better than you," Jack replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Kate let out an incredulous laugh.

"You have some ego, you know that?" She teased.

"Some people find that flattering," Jack defended.

"I find it amusing."

Kate grinned, and eventually so did Jack. At last he tossed his club to his other hand and took a golf ball from her.

"I warned you," he said with mock-seriousness.

"Okay," Kate said, dragging out the word with amusement as Jack sat the golf ball on the ground.

The game had been enjoyable. With no awkward silences, Kate found herself grateful to the relief. Being with Jack, she found, or rather, being with Jack and enjoying herself, could take her mind off of things. Of anything she could think about the island and themselves and not her past. Her smile still on her face, Kate pushed even that thought away. She wasn't going to let the past ruin the moment.

"I'm still waiting," she reminded him playfully.

His response was a sharp swing with the golf club, aimed directly at the ground so that it connected with the golf ball with a single crack. The impact sent the ball flying through the air in a graceful arch. Never once did it waver or let the wind interfere.

"Wow," Kate said a few moments after the ball landed just a little past her own.

Jack grinned.

"Told you so," he remarked.

He actually looked happy, she noticed, like that one single successful hit made up for all his island failures. They had been ones that were out of his hands, but the guilt had obviously still overtook him. His smiled lingered as Jack took in achievment. He really was proud of himself.

----

That night Jack had left the caves just as it was getting dark, saying that he had left something at the beach. Kate believed him- she had no reason not to- but after waiting longer than she should have had to for him to return, she wasn't so sure of herself. Her stomach began to coil with worry as the sun drifted further and further away. Jack wouldn't have left it to where he would have to walk through the jungle in the dark. Hell, she was fairly certain he was afraid of the jungle.

The silence was eating her alive. It rang through the caves, sending out vibes of bad feeling. She could no longer stand that. Jumping up, Kate exited the caves.

"Jack?" She called as she stepped into the jungle. She shivered in the cool night air. Nothing answered her.

She walked down the path some before calling his name again, as she would do a few more times before she realized she had reached the beach. Kate looked around, and for a moment she felt homesick. Here was the lonely beach, welcoming her to come back. It had been her own private sleeping area, her peaceful escape. But she couldn't stay here. She had to find Jack, and one glance around the beach told her he wasn't there. Kate began to panic.

"Jack?" She called out once more, voice vibrating with fear. She remembered her same fearful tone in her latest nightmare. Kate shuddered and began trembling. Also like in the dream. "Jack?"

She ran through the jungle. She hardly knew where she was going; she only knew there was a clearing up ahead. Heading for it, Kate tore through the jungle as tears began to swell in her eyes. The knot of fear and horrible foreshadowing in her stomach was convinced that something bad was about to happen.

"Jack?" She attempted once more. Then she reached the woods just before the clearing. Kate took a deep breath. Just beyond here was when she'd have to make a choice. Which way to go...which way would be the right way. She stepped into the clearing and frowned. "Jack?"

He turned to her. A golf club was in his hand, a ball on the ground ready to be hit.

"You didn't hear me calling for you?" She demanded, still trembling as she stepped towards him.

"I thought I did," he admitted, "I was going to come."

"No you weren't," she accused. If he had, he wouldn't still be here. He had lied to her and over something as riddiculous as...playing golf? But what worried her the most was what that must mean. There was still something he was hiding- and of course there was. It was the reason she had found him with a tear-streaked face the night she decided to move to the caves.

"I just," Jack began, hesitating "I needed some air."

She didn't buy it. His shocked, yet reserve, appearance told her that much. He sounded like she had felt just moments before- sick.

"What's going on?" She asked as she walked towards him. He didn't answer. She reached him just in time to grab the club away before he swung it. Their hands lingered on the club, their eyes meeting. At last Kate warned him: "Don't let this be your escape.

Jack stared back at her, being honest when he asked:

"Then what's it supposed to be?"

Swallowing, she kept her grip on the club. Part of her, she realized, was angry that he was stealing her idea about golf. But who was she to stop him?

"Don't let it be a reason to hide," she said. Her voice was low, honest as well. She did care about him. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. She had thought of it so that it could be like an escape, but if that's what their world was going to turn into...

But then again, she realized, she could switch places with him and be thinking the same thing.

It began to rain. Soft drops of water gradually reached them, swimming down their faces as they still stared at each other, daring- no, asking- one another to speak. Neither did. Neither wanted to bring up that the last time they had stood in the jungle as it rained, they had kissed. And Kate had run. Was he still trying to bounce back from that? How much weight had she added to the burden already within him? Maybe she should say something. Or maybe she should accept that Jack had worse burdens to deal with. It kept him running, just as he past urged her away. They were pushing each other away.

"Thank God!"

They both jumped before turning cold, frozen with fear. It was a voice they didn't know. And it wasn't Danielle's.

"I've been walking around the jungle forever and-" It was man's voice, but it stopped, the man giving into his gratefulness. It grew closer, and they could feel each other trembling as their hands shook the golf club ever so slightly.

At last it was Jack who turned towards the stranger. Then, finally, Kate forced herself to look. It was a man. He looked fairly young from here, but not so much as he stumbled closer. The moonlight and the new flashes of lightening provided a spotlight for the figure to fall into as he nearly collasped to the ground.

----

Their movements were stiff as Jack handed the stranger some water and Kate gave him a blanket. The man had said he had been a survivor of a plane crash. _Their_ plane crash- flight 815.

"There were no other survivors?" Jack repeated. Kate threw her head towards him as he broke their silence. For some reason she felt like there needed to be some kind of agreement to when they could talk, what they should ask.

"Please," the man shuddered, taking the water from Jack with a nod of thanks, "don't make me tell it again."

Jack and Kate exchanged glances of worry. The man had been in the tail section of the plane. The section had crashed into the ocean. When he'd awoken on the shore everyone around him was dead. With a limp leg the man had stumbled around the jungle since the crash, never seeing a sole until he had found Jack and Kate. He had heard Kate yelling and followed her voice.

Neither of them brought up the screaming they'd both been responsible when Danielle had tortured them. Perhaps he just hadn't reached that part of the island, both had decided for the man.

Due to the circumstances- a thunderstorm, the dark, and the man's injured leg, they'd been practically forced to take him in. It wasn't that they were cold-hearted...only afraid.

"So where's everyone else from here?" The stranger asked after drinking some water. He looked up at Jack and Kate, who once again exchanged glances.

"There are no other survivors," Jack told him slowly. Immediately the man looked sick.

"Oh God..." what little color was in his pale face died. The water was barely being held in his hands. Jack swallowed, and even Kate felt sick. They tried to think not think of those who didn't survive. Though they wanted to respect their memory, it only shook them to consider the amount that didn't make it. The fact that that many people could just...be gone. Just like that.

"What did you say your name was?" Jack said, bringing a much-needed break to their painful silence.

The stranger snapped out of his daze to answer him.

"I didn't, but it's Ethan," the man replied, "Ethan Rom." Jack and Kate looked towards each other. "It's getting late, isn't it?"

A long pause followed before Jack replied:

"Yeah."

She knew she was leaving him to do all the talking but she was frozen. She couldn't even think to speak.

"Then can I stay for the night?" Ethan asked hopefully.

Jack looked to Kate, but they both knew he was forced to say the answer neither truly wanted him to:

"Yeah."

----

Jack had introduced the caves as though they each slept in the main room and suggested they'd all stay there. Kate didn't question him; she hadn't even spoken to him since Ethan's arrival. Ethan was slowly adapting to the place- he'd eaten, changed clothes, and had been able to simply take in the comfort of having a place to stay. He was still taking in the new information about the crash, but Ethan had soon begun to learn to be grateful for company. He attempted to make conversation with each of them- he had gotten Jack to say that he was a doctor and Kate lied that she was one as well. It had been the first lie that came to her and Jack had yet to question it.

Now they were preparing to go to sleep- not that either Jack or Kate would get any rest. Jack was coming from a final trip to what was really his own cave when Kate walked by him.

"Hey," he called after her. She turned to him, and he nodded to come back towards him. Kate did.

"What's up?" She said, attempting to be casual.

Jack ignored the question and instead glanced towards Ethan. He then turned his body towards the newcomer and with a hand he slid a gun out of his back pocket. Quickly he gave it to her. She looked up to him but didn't say anything. She too turned to Ethan, who was watching the waterfall, watching as though it was the gate to Heaven. Only he was contemplating about entering. She turned back to Jack, and then she accepted the gun.

"Let's just get through tonight," Jack said.

Kate stared at him, still admittedly fearful, and nodded.

----

**Author's Note:**

Thanks so much for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	15. The Perfect Lie

On An Island

Chapter Fifteen

**Disclaimer:** "Star Star" is a song by The Frames and can be found on their album _Dance the Devil_. I couldn't find any information on exactly who wrote the songs, but the members of The Frames are Glen Hansard, Colm MacConlomaire, Joseph Doyle, Robert Bocknik, and Johnny Boyle.

**Warnings: **Violence

**Chapter Fifteen:** The Perfect Lie

Already the peaceful void of the caves was gone. Tension had risen again as Jack and Kate stayed awake through the night, squinting through the darkness to keep an eye on their new friend. Theoretically. In reality, there was a shared opinion between the two that this guy wasn't to be trusted. Kate hadn't mentioned this to Jack and he hadn't to her, but it was obvious in the way his hand clutched his gun, ready to shoot a at any given moment. Now that she thought about it, she had never even seen Jack use a gun before- she couldn't even be sure that he knew how to.

"What are we going to do?" Kate whispered, breaking the unwritten silence they'd been living in. "Scare him away with the guns?"

Jack let out a laugh, looking down at the weapon in his hands. It looked out of place; the whole idea seemed oxymoronical: a doctor holding a gun. A healer ready to kill.

"You don't trust him," Kate announced quietly.

Looking from the gun to Ethan, and then back to the gun, Jack replied:

"Why shouldn't I?" His voice sounded raspy, tired. "When Rousseau found us we told her we were survivors of a plane crash; he comes to us with the same story. Why shouldn't we trust him?" He shook his head. "But I don't trust him." He looked towards her, challenging- or maybe inviting- her to comment.

She went with the latter.

"Why should we?" She agreed. Her eyes met his. It was obvious they were amaetures. They didn't have a clue of what they were supposed to do, and it scared them. If she were alone she might have tied Ethan up, interrogated him, did everything she could to keep herself safe. To keep herself free. But Jack didn't seem too keen on the first two. So maybe he did trust Ethan. _Or maybe he's just human... _But how 'human' could one be expected to be on this island?

----

When Jack felt his eyes flutter open he first felt panic. He wasn't supposed to fall asleep. Shooting up, Jack looked around to find the caves empty of only himself and Kate. He could feel his heart racing in a panic as he searched for his gun. It was still on the ground next to him. Grasping it, holding it close, Jack quietly scrambled to his feet. But he didn't have to search far. Ethan stepped out from one of the back caves.

"Hi," he said. They stared at each other, and it seemed to take Ethan a moment to realize why Jack looked so petrified. "You thought I was going to run away?" He laughed. "Trust me, after what I've seen, I wouldn't go back into that jungle for a million bucks."

Casually he tossed a wet towel on to the floor of the space he'd named his. His hair was damp, and Jack noticed Ethan was wearing some clothes he'd picked out from the wreckage.

"What have you seen?" Jack challenged.

Ethan looked to the floor, his face falling into a blank defeat.

"Too much," he replied quietly. He looked back to Jack, as though expecting him to challenge his answer. Jack didn't speak up. "How much did you see? In the crash?"

Jack immediately looked towards Kate. He could tell the story without really giving himself away- it was a strategy he'd decided on in the dead of the night- but he didn't know if it was right to start his plan without her, or without even discussing it.

"I blacked out during the crash," Jack answered honestly. He glanced up towards Ethan and then back to Kate. "That was pretty much it."

"What, no bodies?" Ethan replied, offended. "You just woke up on a perfectly clean white and sandy beach?" He looked disgusted, so insulted that Jack wasn't sure how to answer him. The story didn't sound fair- but a voice in his head reminded him that this guy might not even be real. Who was to say he wasn't just another Rousseau?

"There's a crash site," Jack added defensively.

"Yeah, I saw your beach," Ethan agreed, tone sharp and cold, "it smells."

Jack snorted.

"I'll make sure I'll tell Kate," he said, "she picked out the air freshener."

Ethan wasn't amused. He didn't even answer, only turned away, leaving the message unspoken, like a teacher who had dealt with a deliquent student for too long- finding someone who understood felt hopeless.

"It's complicated," Jack half-lied. Honestly he didn't want to have to repeat the story. How were you supposed to describe waking up and finding a plane crash? Hundreds of dead bodies? Jack swallowed. "Have you eaten anything?"

"You have food?"

Jack tried not to let himself be fooled. He tried to put himself in a mind of an enemy- whatever type of enemy that would be. What wouldn't they be expecting from the two survivors?

"Yeah," Jack said, "most of it's from the plane...it's probably not good."

"I don't care," Ethan laughed, "anything but berries."

"Actually..."

"At least we know he's a morning person," Kate commented from behind Jack. "Maybe you can catch us some worms to eat." She appeared beside Jack, wrapping her hair into a ponytail. "Tell him about the food."

Jack glanced to her and then explained:

"It's not good," he confirmed, "we've had it for nearly two weeks-"

"Sounds like you need to hunt," Ethan cut in, "you've already got the guns." Jack's hand immediately flew to the gun he thought was hidden at his side. "You didn't think I saw that? Where'd you two get guns, anyway?"

Jack and Kate exchanged glances. Though Kate was careful to hide, Jack could feel her warning him. But it was he who had to wonder, even doubt Kate's trust, because she answered for him:

"We just found them," she lied, "they must have been on the plane or something."

"'Or something'," Ethan repeated. He smiled over his curiosity. "Maybe there was some kind of criminal on the plane. That'd be creepy, huh?"

"Yeah," Jack and Kate agreed in unison. They glanced towards each other, both nervous and irritated. They were giving themselves away by the moment; they had to talk and soon.

Ethan blinked, and Jack decided to recover.

"You never said where you were from," Jack pointed out, reaching down for his backpack.

"Neither did you," Ethan retorted; but he answered anyway. "Canada. You?"

Once again Jack and Kate looked towards each other. It was a two-way street. Each could ask as many questions as they wanted, and each would still not trust the other. Then he began to wonder, at what point did Kate begin to trust Jack himself? And vice versa?

"I'm from the U.S.," Jack finally replied, mocking the simplicity of Ethan's answer.

Kate looked down to the ground and said quietly:

"Me too."

Silence finally fell on them, and Jack had to fight to hold back a sigh of relief. He glanced towards Kate, who was still staring at the ground; and he knew what she was thinking: more lies.

----

They let Ethan follow them to the beach. Side by side, Jack and Kate walked a few paces ahead of the stranger, occasionally glancing back to make sure he was there. If he disapeared it'd confirmed their fears.

"What are you thinking?" Kate whispered to Jack as they approached the beach. She glanced towards him, attempting to read his reaction. He didn't answer. She looked ahead, speaking quietly while attemping to look casual. "I don't trust him."

"Of course you don't," Jack replied quietly. He didn't say anything else.

They were already at the beach. It was the same setting as it always was, but to Ethan, it must have been something amazing- if he was who he said he was. She glanced back towards him and decided to take control of the conversation first.

"This is it," Kate shrugged, "it's no big deal."

But how was it anything but a big deal? She stood there, admiring- hating- the scenery they stepped into every day. The wreckage of dead bodies and dead lives. Every one of these lives had a family, people who loved them, a career they'd worked for all their lives. Goals. Dreams. And they were reminded of it everytime they came to the beach.

Jack and Kate watched as Ethan took his first steps around the camp. His hand brushed against some of the fuselage, still standing as it had been the day of the crash.

"It's not as great as I first thought," Ethan admitted. Kate turned to Jack, as to say 'I told you so'. Though she didn't know if she had a point to prove.

"He's been here before," Jack explained.

"This morning," Ethan admitted before Kate had a chance to ask. "I was just happy to see something that wasn't jungle..." he looked up at them, "I guess you two really did have it bad."

"You doubted us?" Kate inquired, angry. If he was wanting to give her reason to trust him he wasn't being very successful. She wanted to look to Jack for his reaction, but she kept her eyes on Ethan, waiting for his reply.

"I'm sorry," Ethan said, confused, "did I say something wrong?"

Jack looked to the sand below them, as though embarrased. She was already furious with Jack before he spoke up; she could already sense him turning away from her. Jack would want to try to believe Ethan just so Ethan wouldn't have to be the bad-guy. He knew too well the consequences of being the one to have to plead innocent. She understood that, but she also understood that some people truly were liars.

"No," Jack said.

"Guess you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Ethan offered to Kate, a failed attempt at comic relief. The smile on his face fell at realization of what he said. They didn't even have beds on the island. They hardly had a space to call a bedroom. "That wasn't very funny."

"A lot of things aren't funny here," Kate remarked coldly. With that she turned away from them and looked towards the ocean. She needed to calm down. She needed to talk to Jack.

_The night sky swirled around her in a rainbow of colors. A still summer's air suffocated her as Kate waited for Tom, hands dug deep into her pockets and rocking on her heels to keep her patience. She looked around her hometown: the fields that surrounded her. The motorcycle that sat waiting for her by a nearby fence. Ready to take her out of there._

_"Hey."_

_She turned at the voice, breath leaving her in a sigh relief at Tom's greeting. _

_"What did you need?"_

_"Do you have any money?" Kate asked. Her tone was more rushed and forceful than she would have liked, but she was nervous. She was anxious._

_"What?"_

_"All I have is five hundred," Kate began as an explanation. She began to pace. And panic. "I thought I had enough, but I had to help with the bills last month. My paycheck was only for-"_

_"Stop!" Tom interrupted, confused and concerned. "What's going on?"_

_She did stop. His worried tone manage to fight its way into her messed up brain, cuing the percentage of her left that could still be considered human. This person still cared for her. There were even a few others who did too. Would that change after tonight?_

_"I'll call you later," Kate whispered. Backing away, she began to run._

_The idea was selfish, she realized, and she ran from her mistake; and she ran from one of the many she would hurt. Innocent people. Their lives would change, possibly forever, and all for revenge...and love. If only they knew that._

----

"Did you ever find any of your things?" Ethan asked her. "What you had with you from the plane?"

Kate stared at the pair of socks in her hand.

"No," she whispered.

They were picking through what they hadn't taken to the caves while Ethan decided what he wanted to keep. She was certain Jack didn't trust him, but at least there was a silent agreement to not look suspicious. Staring down at the socks, Kate knew this was another clue she could use. How was he reacting to this? It traumatized her to be holding this pair of socks. Her darkened eyes took in the site with guilt, the world around her stopping for her mourning. She didn't even have her own socks.

"My favorite color," Ethan commented, interrupting her thoughts. Kate looked his way. He was holding up a dark green backpack with a sad smile was on his face. She managed to smile back; she knew he was attempting to offer comic relief.

"You guys ready?" Jack asked, stepping into the scene.

Ethan glanced between Jack and Kate.

"Ready for what?"

"To go back to the caves."

Jack stared at Ethan, puzzled by his confusion. Ethan himself looked disapointed at the anti-climatic reply.

"Give us a minute," Kate said. She turned and began to walk in the opposite direction. In truth she wasn't ready to go back to the caves. She did miss the beach, as sad of a site as it was. Whether you wanted to drown yourself in guilt and live with the dead or open yourself to the possibilty of escape, it felt like the best place for the mind. In the caves, they were only hiding. And perhaps that was best for their safety. But if she were brave she would admit that how they felt and what they thought should matter as well.

"Hey," Ethan said suddenly, "didn't you say you didn't find anything important?"

Kate turned around. Jack, who had also walked away for a while, was stepping towards Ethan.

"Nothing we haven't already taken to the caves," Jack said, "why?"

"This wasn't important?"

Frowning, Kate walked over to them to get a closer look at what Ethan was showing Jack: a book. It was opened to a sheet of names.

"This is the flight manifest," Jack realized.

"I guess that's you," Ethan said, pointing to the first 'Jack' he saw. The last name began with an 'A'. There were a few other Jacks on the list as well, Kate noticed.

"Actually," Jack began and pointed to a name further down on the list, "that's me."

The last name was Shephard. Kate looked up to him, realizing how long they'd gone without even asking about last names. 'Shephard'...it seemed to fit.

"Is that you?" Ethan's finger landed on the right 'Katherine Austen'.

"Yeah," Kate replied quietly, staring at her name with a sad smile. Jack was staring at the name too. It was almost as though the realization called for a change. But what did last names mean anyway? If they were getting a new start, they shouldn't be subjected to what they were called at work or by those who bossed them around and ruined their lives.

"And there's me."

Ethan pointed to a name somewhat close to Jack's: Ethan Rom. It was silent for a moment as they decided how to take this. It should have eased their conscious, but somehow...

"'Rom'?" Jack repeated, glancing towards Ethan and then diverting his eyes back to the list of names.

"I could ask you about your name too," Ethan replied coldly.

Kate chose not to interrupt them. Jack looked away, she assumed because he knew what Ethan meant.

She wasn't relieved of a single ounce of suspicion. Ethan let Jack take the list and the day seemed to go on without her, but Kate's mind was still lost. All the names...all those co-workers, bosses. Families. Why her? She didn't care how much she was asking the question; she just wanted to know. She knew Jack was probably asking the same question. Ethan too, were he to be telling the truth.

"You coming?" Jack asked her, a hint of concern in his voice.

Kate nodded. But she didn't think Ethan was telling the truth. Part of her could still doubt that Jack was telling the truth. But the cruelest part of the idea was that she would more than likely have to decide for herself...unless she waited until it was too late.

----

"Most of the wreckage was in the water when I woke up," Ethan was saying on their hike back to the caves, "everything was washing to shore."

"Then the tail crashed in the ocean?" Jack said.

Ethan nodded.

"No wonder no one else survived," Kate commented, exchanging glances with Jack behind Ethan's back.

"How'd you get to shore?" Jack inquired.

Ethan stopped. His face was angry when he turned around; offended. Nerves froze her body and her breathing nearly stopped as they waited for Ethan's reply.

"You two still don't trust me," Ethan realized. Neither answered. "What's it going to take for you to trust me?" They remained quiet as Ethan glanced between the two, eyes cold and angry. But all at once they suddenly softened as he seemed to realize something more than just their relucance to trust him: the reason they wouldn't want to trust him. "What happened to you? Who do you think I am?"

Holding his breath, Jack glanced towards Kate. She looked back at him, and she realized she was terrfied of having to answer Ethan's question. They should have asked the same to Rousseau: why wouldn't she trust them? On this supposedly desserted island, who werethey afraid of?

Suddenly a new scent caught her attention. It was strong, vile. Kate instinctively stepped towards the smell.

"What's that smell?" Kate wondered outloud as she crept towards it, Jack following cautiously from behind.

"Kate-"

She stopped. She'd found her answer only a few feet away. A dead body was looking up to her. A cry of disgust escaped Ethan, and Kate turned away, feeling sick. Jack was the brave sole to take a step forward.

"He's dead," Jack announced. She realized they'd been waiting in their own deathly silence for him to announce the statement, false hope playing on their conscience. They stood in silence, taking the moment to pay their respects to this stranger they didn't know. They didn't know if he was good or bad- whatever 'bad' would mean. But he'd had a life, just like those skeletons in the cave. A bad feeling of fear emerged in her stomach. Would she and Jack one day be found, laying dead in a cave or on the beach?

"How do you think he died?" Ethan asked quietly, sounding sick. His face was a shade paler than it usually was. His eyes were no longer cold but full of fear and concern; and when Kate saw this she found herself feeling sorry for him. His reaction seemed sincere, and if Ethan was who he said he was, then he didn't need to see any more dead bodies.

Just then Jack's hand fell to a gunshot wound embedded in the victim's side. Dry blood coated the man's shirt. His face, she realized, was still contorted into fear. He'd died fearing his own life, possibly with no hope of escape. He died alone.

"Two shots," Jack noted. He looked up to Ethan, offering sincere sympathy. Ethan didn't say anything; he only stood still. His fearful and sickly face was fading...he was growing angry. Jack's eyebrows furrowed. "Did you know him?"

She wanted to answer Jack's question for him. Of course Ethan didn't know him. If Ethan knew him their doubts would be confirmed. And Ethan wouldn't be lying to them for no reason...unless it was all simply too traumatic for him to handle. After all, how were they supposed to deal with a plane crash and waking up and finding dead bodies? Fending for themselves with no sign of help from anyone, no one to care for them but themselves and whatever friend they could make to share their self-pity with?

"No," Ethan replied coldly, as though to hide any ounce of emotion. For a moment more they stood silent, Jack considering Ethan's reply. Kate's eyes and thoughts were still locked to the dead body at her feet, mind set on the question Ethan finally decided to ask: "So...who do you think killed him?"

----

Kate shivered. She was cold, despite the island heat. The caves were cooler than she was used to- with the wide open space there was no stopping the sun from showering the beach with its rays. It may have been right for Jack- a safe, healthy, enviroment- but Christmas time was around the corner and Kate was still trying to hit one last curve ball.

"Here," Jack's voice spoke up. A bottle of water appeared in front of her. Kate took it, hand trembling slightly. Next a blanket was handed to her. "You looked cold."

"Yeah," Kate said quietly, accepting both the blanket and the water.

Jack looked at her, concerned, but they both knew what was really bothering her. As if finding dead bodies weren't enough the question brought more mysteries- who was the body, why was it dead- was enough to haunt the mind. Jack took a seat next to her.

"Who do you think killed him?" Kate asked, echoing those exact thoughts. No one dared to answer when Ethan asked before. Secretly, no one really wanted to. Life was so much easier when enemies and death didn't rule the world. Ignorance became the new wishful thinking, and suddenly it seemed like everything would simply go away.

"I don't know," Jack looked to the ground below him, frustrated with his answer. "But I'm sure we're fine." Yes, ignorance is bliss.

Kate looked to the ground, and a moment of hesitation passed between them. They both knew he was lying. All the evidence was there for Ethan to plead innocent, but they didn't feel safe.

"What have you told him about yourself?" Kate asked.

If Ethan truly was an enemy then he was simply waiting. He was wanting to know about them, find the best way to trap them.

"Nothing," Jack replied.

"Good."

Jack looked to her. Kate met his eyes before explaining:

"Don't let him know anything about us," she said, "if he can lie...so can we. Whatever he's planning on doing...we'll just have to act first."

Jack looked away. He didn't answer her or offer his opinion. She watched him, waiting while he contemplated his answer. Whatever it was he didn't want to say it. Kate held her breath. She realized the situation she would be putting him in, and somehow with that thought she wasn't surprised of his reply.

"I'm not a murderer, Kate."

His eyes fell back to her, the truth in them dancing around her reaction.

"I'm not asking you to be one," she whispered. Then what was she asking him to do? Spray fairy dust on Ethan and turn him into a good simaritan? No, he wasn't a murderer, and she knew he didn't want to become one. But they both knew- or should have known- the risks they might have to take.

Eyes diverted back to the ground, Jack considered the offer; and she found herself hoping he'd decline. She didn't want to be the person responsible for turning him into herself- a liar. A murderer.

"I'm gonna go talk to him," Jack said quietly.

"Jack-" Kate grabbed his arm as he got to his feet. Their eyes met, speaking what they were feeling as she let go of his arm.

"I'll be careful," he promised.

She didn't watch as he walked away. Her stomach was knotting up and her heart was pounding- she was angry. This time, they were the captors. They knew what was going on and, as of now, could change everything. They'd never been in this situation before on the island, and it felt like they could finally take control of their own destiny. Yet they still didn't feel safe. And it still felt like everything they were doing to take precaution was wrong. At this rate, their captor wouldn't be the only one hurt.

_She ignored the empty store around her as she held onto the phone in her hands, attempting to control her paniced breathing. Silent tears were swelling in her eyes. _

_A sob finally escaped her as the phone ran for a third time. No one had ever known about the abuse going on at the Austen house...no one except for Tom and the suspicions of his father. But he never used a search warrant. The fact that her mother had the talent of spraining a wrist or cutting her cheek once or twice a month never seemed unusual to him. And if it was all because he didn't like Kate herself..._

_Another sob escaped her as Tom finally picked up the phone._

_"Hello?" She was unable answer him. She opened her mouth, but her silent tears had already burst into cries of sadness. Fear. "Kate?"_

_He'd been able to guess it was her. That weak little girl who kept calling, begging for his help. She cried even harder. She hated being this weak, and it only drove her anger further. She had to be strong...she had to change...change everything._

_"I love you," she whispered into the phone._

_"Kate..."_

_"I needed to call you," Kate went on, speaking as best as she could, "and tell you that I love you."_

_She cried harder as she attempted to sieze her tears, her carefully built walls betraying her as she fell apart one last time. In only hours all of this would be gone. This life, her job, Tom...some part of her conscience registered the silence falling over the conversation as Tom listened to her breakdown, frozen in concern. So concerned, so willing, needing, to help her that he just wasn't sure what to do anymore. The reality was that after tonight she and her mother wouldn't be able to simply move out. She wouldn't be able to follow Tom to his new town or answer his proposal. This was the end for her. She couldn't let these feelings, her dreams, get in the way of what had to be done. It was all too ironic. _

_"Kate, what's going on?" Tom demanded. She only cried. "Okay...where are you? I'll come get you, please, Katie, just tell me-"_

_"Goodbye, Tom."_

_Barely whispering, Kate's voice finally broke. She could feel herself falling apart as she hung up the phone, shaking as she both tried and tried not to savor his last words. For her, she would remembering by his determination to save her. For him, he would have failed by not being able to save her. _

----

Jack shook his head as he tried to shake away his conversation with Kate. He realized what he'd have to do; it was the only logical solution. Sure they could use Ethan to learn about the island, if he were the enemy, but what then? Attempt to live in peace and harmony with all evil? It didn't matter what he wanted to do. Maybe the situation really wasn't in his hands.

"Is she okay?" Ethan said. He stood as Jack entered the main cave. "She seemed pretty shaken."

"She'll be fine," Jack said. He wasn't sure he could believe that. He wanted to, but then again, it didn't matter what he wanted. He wanted to think that she was fine, that they were fine, but no matter what kind of criminal Kate was or how much pain they'd endure on the island, he couldn't be certain that they'd ever be okay.

"What about you?" Ethan was watching him closely, trying to observe every reaction and piece of information he could. Jack tried not to feel intimidated; the least he could do was to not lose their fight early.

"I'll be fine." Jack looked up to Ethan, quick to take the conversation off himself. Time to take the advantage part one. "You?"

Ethan did replied, using that same, emotionless and cold tone he always had when answering these kinds of questions.

"I'm fine," he said, changing the 'I'll be fine' as though it were some kind of contest. Jack tensed, but remained quiet as to not give himself away. Ethan didn't bring the subject back up so Jack quickly changed routes as well. He headed towards where they were keeping their food, mostly packaged goods left over from the crash. Soon they would need to start thinking of other options for meals...without proper cooling the food probably wasn't too healthy now.

"So..." Ethan began. "You and Kate. Are you two...together? Like a couple?"

Jack tried not to be obviously surprised. His hand stopped mid-air, holding a dinner he stared at as he kept calm.

"No," Jack finally answered. He sat the dinner down. Somehow he hadn't expected the personal questions so soon. But now he realized it was obvious that anyone would be curious on the subject. He thought about Kate's idea- the lying. Maybe the trick would be to keep their stories as far away from reality as possible. "We kissed once...but it didn't turn out well."

"Did she have bad breath?" Ethan teased, grinning a little.

Jack looked to him.

"I'm married."

He was surprised himself at how real his lie seemed. Ethan remained silent at the reply, possibly taking in this information and relating it to every situation he'd been in with the two. Finding loopholes. Suddenly Jack didn't want Ethan talking.

"I yelled at her after that," Jack went on. A sickening feeling arose within him as he twisted around the truth. But, in a way, it was relieving to be able to blame himself. He didn't have to wonder...what was wrong? What was wrong with him? Why did she need to run? "I lost my temper..." he shook his head, both at what he was saying and his own thoughts. He needed to stick with his story- the fake one. He needed to make it seem real. "I felt guilty..."

"Does she know that?"

Again Jack stopped and looked towards Ethan.

"You're married, of course you'd be mad," Ethan defended, "but she must have liked you. You probably crushed her dreams...like middle school all over again." He offered Jack a grin. "She could probably use the apology."

What would he say if he were really in this situation? Ethan's sincerity actually made him consider the question immediatly. He didn't answer right away; he already found himself drawn to his own lie.

"Yeah," Jack said before the silence drew on for too long, "maybe you're right."

Ethan grinned.

"That's great," he said. Before Jack knew what was happening, Ethan shouted: "Hey, Kate!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Jack snapped, glancing nervously towards the entrance Kate should be walking through. At least the nerves would make him believable.

Kate arrived on clue, looking to Jack in confusion.

"Jack has something he wants to say," Ethan explained, a grin still on his face.

Jack paniced. Kate stared at him, both confused and curious. He swallowed, contemplating what he should do. But he knew: he had to go along with his story.

"I'm...I'm sorry," he said.

Kate raised an eyebrow.

"For..." Ethan said. He seemed amused.

Jack glared at him, but knew he had to continue on.

"For yelling at you," Jack explained. "When we kissed." Kate still remained confused, and the silence of the room began to poke at his nerves. He was frozen with stagefright, barely able to continue. "I should have told you that I was married."

He hated himself for telling the lie to Ethan. This wasn't going to work for him. Even if the lying would have to work, he didn't like it. Kate blinked, head snapping back in surprised.

"It's okay," she said, not seeming nervous at all. He envied her then. "I know the kiss didn't mean anything to you."

Jack winced. Not being skilled in this art of lying, Jack hated hearing what was so very untrue being thrown in his face.

"Well," Ethan said, smiling. He was enjoying this. "Feel better?"

And Jack hated having to answer that question. How was it that Ethan had turned Jack's own plan against him?

"Yes."

His bitter reply encouraged a smile to spread across Kate's face. It even took her a moment to remember to stick with the story.

"And so do I," she admitted, keeping calm. She turned to Ethan. "Thank you."

Ethan grinned.

"No problem."

With that Ethan turned, leaving the two alone for their much-anticipated reunion by the entire movie theatre. Jack only glared at Kate, because her grin told him that she had enjoyed the conversation too.

----

"Thanks for having my back," Jack scolded sarcastically.

"You're the one that chose to be married," Kate defended, following Jack into his cave. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You were grinning," Jack snapped. And she was grinning now. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" Kate teased. But at his annoyed look she did stop. "Maybe you should be more careful with your story."

"More careful?" Jack turned to her. "That's the exact opposite of who I am now."

Kate raised an eyebrow at "now", but Jack didn't notice. He was probably more angrier than he should have been, but he couldn't help it. He felt like he was in a war where he was his only ally. Everyone was standing along the battlefield, laughing at him. Was he that much of a failure?

"It's okay," Kate assured him, "you're right, it's a good story."

Jack nodded, accepting her apology; but his mind was already elsewhere as he caught sight of his left hand.

"There's only one problem," he said, feeling sick at the realization. He showed Kate his empty left hand. "No ring."

Kate shrugged.

"You lost it in the crash," she suggested.

Jack hesitated. Surely Ethan already caught the flaw. He was too accepting of the story...he was probably just waiting for Jack to fall apart. He was letting Ethan win.

"You've got to pull yourself together, Jack," Kate said, a soothing tone to her serious words, "we're doing fine."

He turned to her.

"Do you have a story?" He inquired.

A moment passed as Kate considered his question. He listened intently for both Kate's response and any sign of Ethan. He began to panic, but then he considered: maybe taking his time and not panicing- like Kate- would have been the better plan instead of rushing into a story. There wasn't even a guarantee that he would remember all he'd said.

"Yes," Kate said.

Jack nodded.

"Maybe we have a chance," he said. He told himself to be reassured by his own words. Kate nodded.

Another moment passed and neither said anything. It was sad...it was one of the only times they'd been able to talk to each other- alone- since Ethan showed up. He almost...missed that. How would they be able to get back that peace when they were so precautious? Parniod? Not that they weren't before, but still...

Jack swallowed, remembering his new life-story. That was then, this was now.

"We do need more food," Jack spoke up, making sure he changed the subject, "we're lucky we haven't gotten sick."

"Yeah," Kate agreed automatically. She looked like she didn't really know what she was saying. Again neither continued the conversation. Jack hesitated to let the silence take over, contemplating new ways to bring back the conversation.

"I can hunt," someone spoke up.

They turned to find Ethan in the doorway. Jack and Kate exchanged nervous glances; Jack's heart began to race with worry and fear.

"I just came back and heard you mentioning the food situation," Ethan explained, "I can hunt...my dad taught me when I was little-" his voice fell, and for a moment Ethan looked sick before remembering that he should have been talking, "I still hunt every Saturday...or at least I did." He let out a dry laugh.

No one replied. Jack wasn't ready to trust Ethan, let alone trust him with weapons or with something as important as their food supply. He glanced to Kate for help, but she was already speaking up:

"I can hunt." Jack looked to her. Not only was this new information...but he already didn't like the idea he was sure she had. Kate glanced to Jack. "And you were just saying that-"

"We're not hunting," Jack declared. He turned from them, beginning to pace. Anger and betrayel rushed through him. Kate only looked stunned.

"Jack, you were right about-"

"I don't care!" Jack exclaimed, interrupting Kate. Now both Ethan and Kate were staring at him, puzzled and surprised. He thought quickly, and luckily was able to come up with some truth for his next lie: "We don't know what's out there. It's too dangerous."

"Look," Ethan spoke up hesitantly, as if afraid to cut into Jack's speech. "I walked around this island for weeks, and I didn't see anything."

"Yeah, well-" he stopped himself just before defending 'we did'. He stared at Ethan, petrified by what he almost said. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jack attempted to recover. "This isn't our island."

"Then who's is it?" Ethan argued. Suddenly he didn't sound as nervous. "We crashed here. No one's come for us. We derserve to take advantage of the place." Ethan turned to Kate for support. "Right?"

"I guess..."

"See?"

He hated Ethan for being able to be so carefree. It only made him more suspicious...who in their right mind would want to open an opportunity for something as risky and dangerous as this? Jack shook his head, thinking through their options. Something that wouldn't involve risking their lives. He didn't realize he was thinking for Ethan as well.

"Just let me think," Jack announced, running a hand over his head.

"Let you think?" Ethan said. "Who made you president?"

Jack glanced to Kate, who shrugged. Ethan sighed.

"You can trust me, I swear," Ethan pleaded. It was sickening; he was like a kid begging for ice cream. "I just want to help."

Jack glared at him. Sure, until Kate was tied up in the jungle screaming for help. He wasn't going to let that happen.

"It doesn't matter," Ethan decided, "I'm going to hunt." He walked passed Jack, glaring at him as he did. "I don't need your permission." Jack returned the glare. He waited until Ethan was out of sight before speaking up.

"He won't get far."

"What makes you think that?" Kate inquired.

Jack almost laughed at Ethan's mistake.

"He has no weapons," Jack pointed out. He shook his head. "Let him go. It only gives us more time."

"Time for what?" Kate said, eyeing him closely.

For the first time, Jack felt confident about their situation. The possibility of...winning...was becoming more real to him. There was one major flaw in Ethan's reasoning.

"If he really wondered around the jungle for two weeks," Jack began, "then he shouldn't be willing to go back. Are you ready to go knock on Rousseau's door and sell Girl Scout cookies?" He looked to Kate, daring her to challenge him. She didn't, and he knew she wouldn't. Jack shook his head. "He's not one of us."

"Then who is he?" Kate said. It was a question Jack wasn't sure he wanted the answer to.

"I don't know."

----

In only a half an hour Ethan was finishing preparing for his hunt. He hadn't turned around and invited Jack or Kate along; he simply packed a bag, determined as he stuffed it with extra clothes. Obviously he was preparing to sleep in the jungle as well...possibly to prove just how brave he was. Jack watched, seated against a nearby wall. It was only at that half-hour point that Ethan finally looked up to Jack.

"You're a jerk," Ethan declared. "Did you know that?"

"I had no idea," Jack replied with a smirk.

Ethan laughed.

"Just keep that in mind." Ethan threw the backpack over his shoulder and began to storm out the door. Right passed the waterfall.

"Forgetting something?" Jack spoke up. It wasn't necessarily to save Ethan. Jack almost grinned when Ethan realized his mistake. He looked humiliated.

"Shut up," Ethan muttered. He sounded miserable. Throwing himself to the ground, Ethan took a water bottle from beside the lagoon.

"That's ours," Jack reminded him. He sounded serious, and Ethan stopped, both annoyed and frustrated. Jack chuckled. "I'm kidding." Shaking his head, Ethan went back to filling the water bottles, attempting to ignore Jack's comment. After sitting there for a few moments, Jack began to feel guilty. It wasn't in his nature to be mean or even cold. Even if it was exactly opposite of who he really was, Jack didn't like the change and didn't approve of it. "I'm sorry," Jack offered sincerely, "I was only trying to protect you."

"Yeah," Ethan snorted, "like you're just trying to protect Kate?"

He could feel himself becoming angry.

"I am."

Ethan laughed, the same, cold, laugh escaping him.

"You've got her tied to a leash like she's your new puppy," Ethan said. He brought the water bottle away from the fountain and began refilling another. "She has no freedom here."

He felt his hands tighten into fist. Suddenly he wasn't feeling as apologetic.

"She has more freedom than you know," Jack said, his defensive reply quickly turning into anger as well. Ethan shrugged and took a sip of the water.

"Whatever," he muttered. He stood up, carelessly stuffing the water bottles into the backpack. "See you in another life."

Jack didn't answer. He offered no goodbyes, offered him no luck as Ethan left the cave. Maybe it'd actually be the last time they saw him. Maybe he really was telling the truth. Or maybe...

Jack lept from where he'd been sitting. Or maybe Jack was giving Ethan a free ticket out of Jack and Kate's camp and back to his own. Maybe he was only leaving to go meet up with his own people. This had nothing to do with hunting or even proving a point. How the hell had he been stupid enough to miss that? Racing out of the cave, Jack caught up with Ethan just as Ethan ran into Kate. He only nodded a goodbye to the woman he'd turn to so much for support in their previous conversation. Kate didn't respond.

"Wait," Jack said. He breathed a sigh of relief, though acting like he was out of breath. "I'll go with you." Kate looked at him, surprised. "I'm sorry, it was wrong to yell at you. You're right, we need to hunt. It's the only logical option."

And there it was. For an entire moment Ethan gave himself away. His face looked completely astonished; taken aback. Afraid. His plan was ruined, and Jack was the cause. It was all Jack could do to not grin. Kate glanced between the two, confused. But maybe Ethan realized what was happening because as soon as the moment came it was over. Ethan offered Jack a smile.

"The more the merrier."

The smile on his face suddenly became more creepier than it was a second ago. Jack managed a small grin, as did Kate. But even if he might have saved them, Jack wasn't feeling as confident as before.

----

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kate snapped as they followed Ethan into the jungle. Jack was examining his new hunting knife.

"What happened to wanting his autograph and a birthday shoutout?" Kate rolled her eyes.

"You're just mad because he doesn't want to join the 'I Love Jack' fanclub," she retorted, grinning.

"Now he doesn't," Jack said. He placed the knife safetly into his beltloop. "Just help me keep an eye on him."

To his disliking, Kate ignored him. He didn't want her questioning his judgment...he didn't want anything to be brought up that might make them look suspicious.

"You should have stayed," Kate said, "you don't even know how to hunt!"

"And you're not a doctor, but you still stitched up my back." He stopped for a moment and grinned. Kate smiled back. "Plus we're with him. How's his people, or whoever, going to know where we are if he can't tell them? He's obviously some kind of messenger. The poor guy probably can't get a better position in the group." This made Kate smile as well, and Jack's grin lingered.

"You guys coming?" Ethan called to them. Jack and Kate stared at each for another moment, ignoring Ethan. What if Ethan did end up staying with them? How would things change between them? Would his presence make things easier or more difficult? He hoped they wouldn't have to find out.

They began walking back up the trail.

He honestly didn't think he'd ever be able to trust Ethan. Not after what they'd been through and the danger of the island. He shivered.

"You okay?" Kate asked, glancing towards him.

"Yeah," Jack lied.

"Up here!" Ethan shouted to them. On instinct Jack followed Kate to Ethan's call. They stopped at what simply looked like odd-shapped marks in the ground. Ethan grinned. "We're close."

"Close to what?" Jack asked. He realized he didn't even know what they were hunting.

"Boar," Kate replied. She didn't take her eyes off the tracks on the ground as she explained: "They've been stalking the beach since the crash."

"The smell," Ethan nodded.

Jack didn't understand, but the serious look on Kate's face told him to trust that they were right.

"What now?" He asked, looking around. It looked like the same trails and fields to him, but Kate and Ethan seemed mesmerized.

"We track," Ethan replied, "we wait. We kill."

That's when Jack remembered:

"I thought you were vegetarian," he said to Kate. He guessed he didn't realized what he was saying. His heart fell with. He began to panic. She needed a story to give to Ethan. Just like, in reality, Jack wasn't married.

"I haven't always been," Kate shrugged, "I can deal with it." She glanced towards Jack, a grin forming on her face. "Unless you can't."

Jack rolled his eyes.

"I cut up people's backs for a living," he pointed out. Ethan turned to him. He was horrible at this. Thinking quickly, Jack added: "Metaphorically."

Ethan stared after him for a moment before nodding.

"What do you do for a living?"

Jack winced at the question; thankfully Ethan had already began walking again. Kate glanced towards him, probably pittying him.

"I..." he knew he couldn't hesitate for long. Jack's mind reeled with possibilities, but there was only one that seemed logical. "I'm a lawyer."

It was quiet and for a moment Jack was sure the lie didn't work. He was sure Kate had some kind of remark she wanted to make, knowing the truth about Jack, but he was relieved when she stayed quiet as well.

"Explains the arguing then," Ethan commented. Jack breathed a small sigh of relief.

Ethan simply kept walking, giving no explanation as to where they were going. At this point Jack didn't care. As long as Ethan gave him some sort of hope that he hadn't spoiled their plan...their safety. Jack felt Kate brush a hand against his shoulder as she walked by.

"You'll get better at this," she said, whispering the promise into his ear. She offered him a smile, but Jack couldn't return it. There was too he'd failed at to fail at this. Too many lives ruined. Too many disapointments. And worse- they couldn't afford for him to fail.

_"Thailand?"_

_Jack nodded._

_"That's a long way away," Julia said._

_Jack nodded again._

_"I know."_

_"You've never been out of the country before," she pointed out._

_"I know."_

_He sat on his couch as he blankly watched Julia rearrange his bookcase, probably alphabatizing his books, dvds, and cds. Alphabetizing was simply simple, she'd always said. As she was a therapist, Jack could see why Julia would want to stick with things that were simple for the mind. Easy steps first. Then she'd be sorting by author, artist, and whether or not people actually died in fight scenes of some movie._

_"Have you arranged getting a passport?" She inquired._

_Jack looked up to her, coming out of his daze for the first time. Since just that morning when he'd run into Sarah, his mind had been in a constant state of wonder. What if he went to Thailand and helped this guy? David. What if he helped David?_

_"That would confirm that I'm going."_

_Julia smiled._

_"I know."_

_Jack looked back to the spot in the air he'd been concentrating on before. Going out of the country...saving Sarah's new husband...being a hero. It all sounded good, in theory. But what if..._

_"What if I fail?" Jack said quietly, almost whispering, sick at the thought._

_Julia turned to him, that familiar sympathetic smile on her face. _

_"You won't," she assured. That same sad tone. Here he was, still this little helpless boy with no confidence in himself and no hope for a future. Who was terrified of failing and didn't think of anything but. "Besides," she began to go back to her sorting, as though sensing he needed relief from the sympathy. It wasn't as though he wasn't grateful, but it didn't exactly help his ego. How was he supposed to fly halfway around the world by himself and deal with every emotion, every fear, every obstacle if he needed to run to someone everytime his shoes came untied? "I think it'd be good for you."_

_Jack snorted._

_"Good for me?" He inquired. What would be good for him would be if he actually did gain a little confidence and if there actually was hope. If he could fix everything- his relationship with his father, with Sarah. That'd be great. Just what he needed...no sarcasm intended._

_"Maybe you need a little...insight," Julia suggested, "some outside perspective. Maybe you'll see that you don't have it as bad as you think you do."_

_"And what will that do?" Jack challenged, unconvinced._

_"It'll make you grateful," Julia explained, "trust me, after hearing some of the stories I've heard, no one needs to remind me of how grateful I should be."_

_"I am grateful," Jack remarked. This time sarcasm was intended. "I have a wonderful father who put me through school and got me a job. Oh, wait, he's also a drunk and has been an alcoholic all my life. Doesn't mix well when you do something as bad as leave the tv on the wrong channel or make a 'B' on a test."_

_Julia looked towards him, rolling her eyes with a smile._

_"You're lucky, Jack," she said, "trust me."_

_Jack jumped up from the couch, angry. Suddenly he did feel defensive of himself. He deserved better than this, better than what he had. Better than what had been done to him and how much he'd been hurt._

_"He's an abusive, manipulative alcoholic...jerk!" Jack shouted. He began to pace as tears of self-pity began to form in his eyes. "I don't even know why I'm doing this. He doesn't deserve to be fought for, for me to fight for him! Why the hell am I even doing this?"_

_"Because you love him." He stopped, teary-eyed, staring at Julia. "Because this is who you are."_

_The comment only made him angrier._

_"It's not who I want to be," he said, "I don't owe him anything. He owes me everything."_

_He owed him his childhood back. A second chance. _

_"Maybe he does," Julia reasoned. "But that doesn't matter now." He glared at her, hurt that she'd even suggest that. Of course it mattered now, it always mattered. "The only thing you have to worry about right now is whether or not you're going to get on that plane, go to Thailand, and save Sarah's husband."_

_His glare softened, and Jack considered her words. But she didn't know there was still a small part of him that was worried for a different reason. A small part of him still worried that if he left the country, if he did this operation, then his father would think he was giving up on him. He admitted that he was afraid. He could fail on so many levels. He didn't want to make this decision._

_A dog barked in the distance. Jack jumped, his heart nearly leaping from his chest._

_"Was that a dog?" Jack asked slowly, confused. The bark sounded like it came from nearby- not outside the house but...inside._

_On cue he heard the garage door being scratched until it finally burst open. Someone had left it slightly ajar. Ajar enough for a puppy to push it open. A small labordor puppy came running into the room. Jack looked up to Julia, stunned, as he fell to the floor beside the dog._

_"You got me a dog?" He said, in awe of the labordor._

_"His name's Vincent." Julia smiled and knealed beside the dog as well. "I thought you could use the company."_

_He hardly considered the responsibilty of owning another pet, something other that the fish that swam in his aquarium. He'd always been simply too tired to consider another pet, too drained both physically and mentally. But now he had something else to worry about. Jack hesitated, considering the issue._

_"But if I go..." Jack began, feeling like a kid who'd just realized his new trainset didn't work._

_Julia smiled._

_"I'll look after him," she offered._

_He took this in and laughed. Here he was, nearly forty and considering getting a dog as the new highlight of his life._

_"I'm officially the old lady with twelve cats," Jack said, making fun of himself._

_"But you're not an old lady," Julia pointed out. She nodded to Vincent. "And there aren't twelve of him."_

_Accepting her argument, Jack continued to stare down at his new friend. He wanted to be happy, but every time he tried to be, a new concern came to mind. _

_"But you're not even supposed to be here," Jack reminded her, "what if-"_

_"I'm considering dropping the restraining order."_

_Their eyes met. Surely something bad would happen any moment. His life couldn't turn around this quickly. Things never worked out well for him. Disapointment was in his nature._

Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine

Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind

_"Really?" He finally asked, fighting to keep his voice steady._

_"Really," Julia said. "That was years ago and...I know it wasn't your fault. It wasn't fair to you." She made sure she had his attention and added what he'd always wanted to hear all his life but was never told, by anyone. And now that he was able to, he did felt that he could admit he deserve better. He couldn't help but to accept and even want the apology that came. "I'm sorry." Because it was over now. Maybe there was hope. A smile escaped him, and he made his decision._

_"I'm going to go call about a passport," Jack said. He felt like a load of pain and burden had been lifted from him. This entire segment of his life, the self-pity, the self-hatred, this part of these past few years could finally be over. He might never forger and even, sometimes- if ever- not be able to fully forgive, but at least it was over._

_Julia grabbed his arm as he began to stay, a loose, comforting grip. He looked to her._

_"You'll be fine," she promised. "And when you get back-" she smiled- "we'll both be waiting for you."_

'Cause I don't understand these people

Saying the hill's too steep well,

They talk and talk forever

But they just never climb

_Jack paused a moment, considering her proposal. He'd been so self-reliant over the past few years that he now wondered if he could adapt to this change. But then he thought about his declaring of what he deserved, what was owed to him. If it sounded selfish, he didn't care. Maybe he needed this change. His life really wasn't going well...and he didn't see, without this help, how it could. So he smiled and headed to make that call. _

----

He walked to where Kate was sitting just outside the caves. The dark jungle shielded his path from the moonlight, and Jack stepped with extra caution. When he reached her he sat a plate of fresh meat by her side. She looked to him.

_Falling down into situations bringing out the best in you_

_Flat on your back, yeah_

"I really am vegetarian," she said. Jack smiled.

"I know," he said, "it's for me. But if you're not comfortable with-"

Kate shook her head.

"It's fine."

_Star, hear every word I'm heeding_

_Can you help me to see?_

_I'm lost in the marsh, yeah_

He studied her for a moment even after she looked away. This might be their last chance to talk that night. Ethan was inside, eating his own dinner and getting ready to go to sleep. Ethan himself had been the one to successfully kill the boar they were eating, and he and Kate prepared it as Jack watched, confused and curious. He admired her for helping and especially for being able to flawlessly stick with whatever lie she allowed herself to tell. She handled it all with such grace that Jack found himself envious of her skills. At last he sat down beside her. He wanted to talk to her, possibly tell her this, but he wasn't sure what he should do anymore.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking in the still night air.

_Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine_

_Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind_

Kate looked to him. She honestly looks puzzled, he thought.

"For being such a horrible liar," he explained. He picked up a small stick from the ground, broke it in half, and through it back at the ground.

Kate continued to stare at him, confused and sorry. He was all-too used to the sympathy. Here he was again, that same failure. The more he thought of it, the more he was certain there was no way Ethan hadn't caught his flaws.

_'Cause I don't understand these people_

_Saying we're all asleep_

_They toss and turn forever_

_But no rest will they find_

"You're doing fine," Kate said, "you should be proud."

Jack looked to her, searching her eyes for an explaination to such a riddiculous remark.

"Of what?" He inquired.

"That lying isn't a part of you," Kate said. Her voice fail as she explained, and even her eyes softened in the glow of the fire. "That it's not so natural to you, so easy." She looked away, broken and ashamed.

"It's come in handy," Jack reassured.

Nice. That had to be the first thing to come out of his mouth.

"I mean-"

"It's okay," Kate said with a laugh, "you don't need to find an excuse for me." She drew her knees to her chest. Their dinner was ignored as Jack studied her, his concern growing. He was thinking of a million things to say, a million questions to ask. But one began to stuck out more than the other.

"When did you begin to trust me?" Jack asked, breaking the flow of Kate's own self-hatred. She looked to him. "Was it because you wanted to, or something I did?" He searched her eyes, testing her with his suggestions. "Or because you had to?"

Her mouth fell open. Then she closed it. And opened it again.

"Jack-"

_Star..._

"Which was it?" He demanded gently.

_Teach me how to shine on_

"I-" she turned away from him, again drawing her knees to her chest. "I..." She ran a hand through the bangs than hung over her face. "I just knew I needed someone. I needed someone to trust. It wasn't because I had to but because...I needed to." She looked to him, and he knew she was begging for him to understand. He wanted to, but he also found he wanted her to say what he wanted to hear. Which was...the same reason he'd began to trust her? "I wanted, needed, someone because...I just wasn't sure..." She stopped. That was her answer. Jack wanted to smile. To comfort her and tell her that was okay...really, anything would have been okay. It was unfair, he realized, to judge such an issue. It was a turn around, but Jack realized they deserved that simple truth. "What about you?" She looked to him again, her eyes now searching his. "When did you start to trust me?"

Despite his previous decision, he offered her an honest answer, what he would have said moments ago and still could live by now.

"I needed someone too."

Their gaze stood connected, smiles slowly forming on their faces, spreading as they attempting to wash away the pressure of confession. All of the pressures they were under. They wanted to, at that moment, forget every worry that haunted them; the fact that their worst enemy could be only a few feet away. All they wanted was that peace back, that odd sensation that everything was okay. His lips fell on hers as they took these emotions in. The fire crackled in front of them, teasing them with reality that they quickly ignored. She kissed him back and for a moment all those feelings, desires, were able to come into play. But they soon broke apart in unison, because of all those pressures they tried to push aside, there was one that had remained within them.

"What does this mean?" Kate asked, voice soft and breaking with emotion.

_Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine_

_Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind_

Jack himself was fighting with his own emotions. He wanted to smile, yet he was confused.

"I don't know."

_Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine_

_Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind_

He unwllingly found himself staring into the fire, considering everything. Possibilties. Doubts. Dreams. Reality. He tore his eyes away from the fire, stealing a glance towards Kate. Their eyes met, and they both shared the same small smile.

_Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine_

_('Cause I don't understand these people_

_Saying the hill's too steep)_

_Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind_

_(They talk and talk but just never climb)_

"I think..." he paused, and realized he should say what he wasn't sure he wanted to. "I think I should go and...think. I should go and think and...check on Ethan." He couldn't help but to smile at how riddiculous that sounded.

"Okay," Kate whispered, smiling a little herself, though her face and smile were sad. Let down. But still he was glad he heard her answer.

It made him feel less like he was running.

_Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine_

_Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind_

----

She was used to it being dark. It was always dark out here. But in her tears and with all she was afraid of, all she had to fear, it seemed darker than normal. She stumbled around the side of her house, desperately wanting to pull herself together even as she cried, tears pouring over the grass. The house that would soon develop an odd smell...Kate sobbed as she finally reached the front porch and collasped on it.

She looked out to the fields in front of her. Her past stared back. She could see herself playing in those fields, running and laughing with Tom. Kate cried harder. She saw her mother calling her in for dinner. Kate would pretend as though she didn't hear. She didn't want to hear herself now. She wanted to be back in that time of youth. She wanted to be able to run to her mother and warn her that things would never get better. Then she'd drag her away. Run away. But could Tom come too? Tom couldn't come now. Those last few words would probably be the last she'd hear of him. She wondered...would he understand? Would anyone?

At last Kate wiped her eyes with a sleep, determined to pull herself together. No, no one would understand and that was why she had to be strong. No more tears. Her past would have to disapear.

Her father would be home soon. Kate didn't have to wipe her eyes again. She tried not to think of how no one was there to comfort her, nor would there be anyone there for her ever again. Her father would be home soon. She had to be able to pull this off.

----

He wasn't sure if any time had gone by since making the call and getting on the flight to Thailand. The flight attendent asked him if he needed anything, and Jack shook his head. He needed to think. Over and over again he went over the procedure in his head, determined to have everything straight by the time he landed.

He could do this if he kept thinking this way. He would go to Thailand, save Sarah's husband, and be the hero. He was really trying to believe in himself and put faith in himself. He would really try to save David. And if he didn't...Jack shook the thought away. He wasn't even going to consider that.

----

Regret. Anger. He even felt betrayed by his own conscience. Why had he left? Now he had no right to blame Kate for hurting him after their first kiss. He was just as guilty now, and worse, he knew what that felt like. He'd go back, apologize. But for now, he really did need to think. Because what if things turned out okay between them? What if she excepted his apology? What would they do? Could they risk furthering their relationship, when so much was at stake? If they didn't have their friendship, if this different relationship failed, what would they do? Maybe Jack would have to go running back to Danielle. Beg for mercy for all he had failed and from all the people he'd failed. But he didn't want to have to go back to Danielle. He wasn't sure exactly what it was he wanted. Or maybe he just wasn't ready to admit what he wanted. Jack looked around the caves, yearning for the days when he could have sat in here by himself, thinking without considering being watched or even interrupted.

Ethan even showed up now, standing in front of the entrance of Jack's own cave. He was almost afraid to ask what he'd been doing in there. Jack stood, frozen.

"How'd it feel?" Ethan asked him. Jack's heart was pounding so rapdily he felt like he'd be sick if he answered. "To kiss her?" Ethan grinned. "Come one, you're glowing. I almost had to ask if you were pregnant."

At last Jack swallowed and faught to find his voice. Maybe there was hope...

"You know, it's okay to lie to people," Ethan went on, taking a step closer to Jack. Jack felt himself tense. He thought quickly. He had a gun, it was in his backpack which...was back in the woods with Kate. He'd left it there when he'd run off. Karma. "Like being married. Or hell, even not being married. I mean, you're stranded on an island with a beautiful girl. And her eyes-" Ethan's own eyes were now cold, steady. Jack could feel himself shaking with fear. The other gun, he remembered, had been in his cave. "You must hate yourself whenever you look in her eyes. Because you know you're staring at something you can't help. Because maybe she's just so lost..."

"Shut up!" Jack exclaimed through gritted teeth, stiff with fear. He wished he came with a defrost button, something that could automatically turn off all these embarrasing emotions. Why couldn't he just take action, knock Ethan to the ground, knock him out? Just tell Kate how he thought he felt about her?

"That's why you came running back in here, isn't it?" Ethan went on. His tone was harsh, becoming Jack's new system of blame. "Because you're just not brave enough."

Something snapped within him. Maybe some external button had been pushed, but whatever it was, adreline swept through him as Jack leaped forward, knocking Ethan into Jack's own cave. Ethan fell to the floor, but the impact didn't satisfy him. Jack threw a punch to Ethan's jaw, what should have been the perfect advantage to take, but he was flying. Jack was flying, soaring through the air. He didn't know how...for a moment he actually hoped this was some sort of power within him he'd been waiting for. But soon he was on the floor. His head hit something hard on the way down, and Jack saw the world darken before him. He wanted to scream, shout for both help and to warn at the same time. Ethan was walking towards him, looking angrier than ever with a face that would have scared away fire. Jack shook as he swerved between two worlds, swimming in fear. He was breathing heavily, harshly. Fear raced within him, one fear chasing another. Fear for himself. For Kate. For himself. For himself. For Kate. For Kate.

A sharp kick to the side, and he rolled, detouring to the side like a car falling from a cliff. Banged up and waiting to be found as its life hung in the air. Jack's own gun was now being pointed to his face.

"I was waiting for you to come back in," Ethan spat, "I knew you would."

Another kick. Jack rolled onto his stomach, a blinding pain tearing a his ribs. He attempted to lift his head as though there were still some hope he could fight back. But the gun would only hover him for a moment before it came crashing down to his skull. The last he heard was a scream. Whether it was for himself or Kate, he did not know. The scream could have even been from Kate. But he'd never get his chance to fight back. He was already gone.

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	16. On Our Island

On An Island

Chapter Sixteen

**Warnings:** Violence

**Chapter Sixteen:** On Our Island

He slowly came to, and pain was the first thing he was conscious of. Carefully, as though handling something fragile, Jack lifted his head, pushing himself through his own hazy mind. He couldn't see anything at first because everything looked the same. He realized he was in a room, where everything looked the same, and the walls and floors were the same light color of gray. And he was staring straight at himself. A mirror sat on the other side of the room in front of him. He was tied to a chair, bound, but not gagged. His face was bloody from a thick cut above an eye. He shook at the sight as he remembered the fight. His entire body screamed in pain that Jack had to fight to ignore. He continued to observe the mirror. There was no sound around him and no one seemed to be in sight, but Jack recognized the mirror for what it was.

"Hey!" He shouted at the mirror. "Somebody come and talk to me!" No one answered, but Jack knew someone was there. Someone was watching him...he could feel it. Jack tried not to panic. No one being in the room meant that Kate wasn't there. "Kate?"

Again no one answered him, but Jack found himself not surprised. If whoever they were went to this much trouble to capture him than they would surely not be as careless as to let him have the relief of knowing where Kate was. But this didn't ease his conscious. Breathing heavily, Jack only paused momentarily before shouting at the mirror once more:

"Who's there?" No answer. On the side of a far wall a window offered a view into the rest of the world. Outside a bird chirped. Jack shuddered, and for the first time he considered all the places he could be. Because it seemed too absurd. This building, or house, or whatever the place was, was on the island? The thought was almost more frightening than confusing. But then, it had to be on the island...otherwise why was Ethan there?

Jack jumped, though he couldn't move from the chair he was tied to, as a door suddenly opened. He hadn't noticed it, and Jack realized this was because the door only opened from the outside. Once the door was closed, there was no doorknob leading out. There had to be more than one person here, Jack thought. But the man who was there now was approaching him, a bottle of water in his hand. He looked to be older than Jack, with graying hair. He was tall and heavier than Jack as well. But Jack didn't know this man. He began to panic...who were these people?

"The famous Jack Shepard," the man said, almost singing. Jack tensed. They couldn't know about his past... "Ethan's told us all about you. Glad we finally get to meet." He uncapped the bottle of water and held it at Jack's chin, intending for him to take a drink. Jack didn't move. He kept staring towards the mirror, trying to see through it as the person on the other side could see him. "Come on Jack, take a drink. All the cool kids do."

The man chuckled at his own joke, but Jack wasn't amused. There could be other captives here, he realized, besides himself and Kate. But his throat was dry, his head felt hazy- he was too weak to do anything about his situation. So Jack took a sip of the water and another. He didn't swallow the second drink.

"I'm Mr. Friendly," the man told him as he recapped the water, "but you can call me Tom...only because I like you."

As soon as Mr. Friendly stepped close enough, Jack spat the water towards him, drenching his face and chest. Mr. Friendly let out a loud curse, and a new voice answered.

"Remember your job, Tom."

Jack looked around for the intercom system the sound came from. All he found was a security camera with a blinking red light in a corner. Jack glared at the camera. Only his reflection stared back. The voice had sounded as calm as the situation felt. A part from his worry, fear and determination to get himself and Kate out of this, the entire scenario seemed rather sophisticated. Everything was going according to plan.

"You saw what he did!" Mr. Friendly shouted back.

No one answered him, and Mr. Friendly muttered something to himself before turning back to Jack.

"If you don't mind," he began, clearly having to try to ignore what had just happened, "tell us a little about yourself."

"Tell me where Kate is," Jack replied, attempting to sound as calm as the voice over the intercom had.

Mr. Friendly ignored him. He began to pace the floor, as though mocking Jack's situation. Jack instinctively struggled against his binds, but he should have known the attempt would prove useless. He could only glare at Mr. Friendly while frequently glancing towards the mirror and the camera.

"Tell me about yourself," Mr. Friendly said. He looked to Jack. "Tell me about the day of the crash."

Beginning to breathe heavily again, Jack attempted not to lose control. He wasn't going to let this happen again. His head pounded and the dry blood at his feet reminded him of his head wound, but they weren't going to lose.

"Where's Kate?" He said. "Just tell me where she is-"

"And you'll tell me anything?" Mr. Friendly interrupted. That wasn't what he was going to say. Mr. Friendly smirked. "There's a reason you're here, Jack. There's someone here who's very interested in you...and I'm not talking about Kate." Jack's eyes narrowed angrily. "And we know what happened between you two last night."

Jack attempted not to feel intimidated, and he tried not to think about what had happened, though it only made him that much more determined to find and save Kate. That much more determined for some kind of revenge for all that had happened to them. That much more angrier at himself...Jack mentally shook himself out of it. This was what they were trying to do. Use Kate to get through to him.

"The day of your crash we went to that shore," Mr. Friendly went on, "and it's funny because everyone was dead."

A flashback of that day hit him. He was walking, stumbling, through the wreckage. Everyone was dead. Except for him...

"And yet here you are," Mr. Friendly said. He looked to Jack, honestly curious. "How did that happen?" When Jack didn't answer, he went on. "Why you?"

Jack didn't mention this was the question that had been eating at him since that day. He didn't mention that their curiosity was mutual.

"How did you survive out there?" Mr. Friendly went on. "With no help except for Kate. With no clue what you were doing or what was going on. Emotionally, even." Mr. Friendly turned back towards him, eyes dancing with triumph. "All those dead bodies...it must have been-"

"Tom," the voice over the intercom warned. Mr. Friendly swirled around.

"You wanna call the shrink in here?" Mr. Friendly shouted.

The voice sighed.

"Leave him alone for awhile," he instructed, "and get him something to eat."

Mr. Friendly scrawled, and Jack couldn't help but to grin. He even felt relieved. Mr. Friendly didn't seem to have much control at all, and if the voice over the intercom wasn't even going to show himself...maybe he could think of a way out of this.

"I'm not his servant," Mr. Friendly told him. Jack kept grinning until Mr. Friendly finally groaned again and left the room.

Jack was alone now, left to stare at his own reflection in the mirror. But he knew it wasn't himself that stared back. Someone was there, watching him, studying him. Waiting for him to give in. Jack swallowed, ignoring his pain and hunger- he remembered this at the mention of food. He wouldn't let the man behind the mirror be satisfied.

_He took off his sunglasses for a clearer view of Sarah's house in Phucket. It looked small but cozy, and more like a vacation home instead of a permanent living situation. But Sarah said she had lived here since a few months after the divorce. Jack sighed. Though the sky was blue above him and people around him he didn't know were enjoying the day, a sense of dread was overcoming him. Jack began to walk towards the door. The entrance was very decorative, with a fancy glass design on the door. Jack grimaced; the one thing he could have had over this guy was that he could provide better for Sarah. He reached for the doorbell, but the door opened as he did._

_"Get in here, quick!"_

_Jack hardly had time to take in what was happening before he was pulled into the house following Sarah's whispered order. He stumbled inside and managed to steal a glance around the main room as she led him through the house. A grand piano sat in the corner of a large, marbled-floor living room. A big screen television was nearby. Now he was curious as he realized he had no idea what her husband did for a living. _

_He was being led into a hallway, and that was when he remembered he didn't even know what he was doing here._

_"Shouldn't we be going to a hospital?" Jack inquired._

_"No," Sarah replied. Quickly and coldly. _

_He thought they might stop at one of the few bedrooms in the hall. There were three that he saw, one obviously a guest room. It was white inside, with new sheets lying on a bed. But Sarah stopped instead in front of a bookshelf in the hallway. Burgundy wood filled the sides while a lighter color sat beneath only a few photos and a photo album. In one of the photos, a man- about Jack's age and size, only with thick brown hair and a broad smile- had his arms around Sarah's shoulders as they grinned at the camera. A sick feeling of jealousy settled within him._

_"Is this him?" Jack said, looking at the pictures. She looked so happy in them...he was beginning to realize how easily she must have been able to move on._

_"Move," Sarah said, ignoring him. He did. She pushed the bookcase out of the way, revealing nothing but a blank wall. But when Sarah put her hand against it, the wall pushed open to reveal a staircase. It seemed to lead to some kind of basement. "Follow me."_

_"What's going on?" Jack demanded. She didn't answer him._

_A room lay below the stairs. As they descended, Jack noticed that down here was much darker than the rest of the house, though not necessarily not as nice. The first thing he noticed was a pool table in the corner, though it looked suspiciously abandoned. Cabinets lined the back and other typical basement items were noticeable as well; but what caught Jack's attention next was a couch laying against a far wall. A man was laying on it. By its side was a table of medicine, medical supplies, and towels dyed with blood. _

_"What's going on?" Jack finally asked as Sarah walked over to the man on the couch. She suddenly looked sad, hopeless, leaving behind the determination of bringing Jack to this place. That mission was over. He was here, and Jack was beginning to get a foreshadowing fear of being in over his head. _

_"This is Samuel," Sarah whispered. Her voice was breaking; he could hardly understand her. Jack crept closer to the couch. Samuel wasn't the guy from the photos. He was a little younger, but Jack wasn't able to conclude more than that. The man lay on his back, upon which a large bandage was wrapped. Blood was beginning to stain the cloth._

_"You said-"_

_"He's my brother."_

_She looked to him as though to answer his confusion. Jack stared back, confused, unsure what to think. Sarah ripped her gaze from him and back to the man on the table- her brother._

_"You said..." Jack began, thinking back to their marriage. He was almost surprised with how easily and painlessly the memories were able to come back to him. But they never really left him. They remained within him, a hopeful reminder of what could still be. Because, somehow, a part of him always thought that things could still change. "You said your brother had run away. Wanted by the law."_

_"He was," Sarah said. She gazed at her brother sadly. "He got into some really bad issues..." she trailed off and looked to Jack. She seemed to sense what he was thinking. He mentally shuddered when he considered she still possessed the skill. "I had to help him."_

_Jack hesitated. This would be risking so much...but at the same time, he'd be breaking the Hypocratic Oath by denying treatment. And any kind of relationship he still had with Sarah._

_"I can't take him to a hospital Jack," Sarah was crying now, "I might as well kill him."_

_Jack sighed. He wanted to calm her down, to be able to be there for her. But the reality was, with no technological help-_

_"David can get whatever she need," any hope that there was no husband died. He felt sick again. "And he'll pay you..."_

_"I don't care about the money," Jack said honestly. Money didn't concern him. Morals concerned him. Being there for Sarah...helping her. Jack shook his head. Why was he even thinking this way? Turning, he walked away a little._

_"Jack!" Sarah exclaimed quietly through tears. _

_He turned. Nothing stopped him from turning back. His gaze was locked into hers as he took in her broken form, emotionally tortured as she pleaded for his help. His mind raced in circles as it attempted to understand what was going on. He was still trying to get over the fact that after this he wouldn't be able to simply drive a few miles back home and lie down in his own bed to sleep. His favorite coffee shops were no where near by, and Sarah was the only person he knew for miles- on this side of the world. But, most importantly, this decision was being placed in front of him, and the consequences would be deadly. But the man was wanted in the three different countries. He didn't even understand why Sarah would want to help her brother. He'd left her in her family and drowned himself in bad reputations. But here Sarah was, begging for Jack's help. And he knew he wouldn't be able to turn her down._

----

The chair was left abandoned as he sat on the floor, Indian style, hands thrown carelessly over his knees. He was still staring at the mirror, though one eye had now been drawn to the window. He was afraid of looking out of it. Partly because he knew he was being watched and the window was more or less placed there to encourage his curiosity, but also because there was an honest fear within him of learning what he wanted to know. Whether he looked out to find he was really in some city or in some building on the island, he'd be forced to except the fact that he was possibly in over his head. He really did have no idea what was going on, where he was, or how to get himself and Kate out of this situation. So he sat in the comfort zone of the middle of the room, able to keep an eye on both the window and the mirror. And the door.

But as he sat only more time went by, time wasted as he couldn't think of a plan of escape. Frustrated, Jack tore his eyes away from the mirror. This was accomplishing nothing. He stared down at his hands, scarred and bruised from the rope that previously bound them. Maybe, he thought, in a perfect, kind, world, Rousseau would eventually given into her life of solitude and go to look for them. When she would see that they were missing, maybe she would find within her the caring sympathy to search for them. No, Jack immediately thought, dismissing the idea before he could grow too fond of the idea. She'd tortured them without second thought. They'd fled from her like kids running from some feared neighbor's yard. She wasn't reliable. Hell, deep down they would even admit they were still afraid of her. Rousseau seemed to be a perfect example of what pain, fear, and desperation could do to a person. What the island could do to a person. Jack shuddered.

"Cold?"

The sarcastic, icy, voice was all too familiar. Jack looked up. Ethan had entered the room, carrying a plate of food. A proud smirk was on his face. Jack scrambled to his feet.

"No, sit," Ethan insisted. A hint of sarcasm still remained in his voice. "Dinner is served."

Bending down, he sat a tray of food on the floor. Jack took the opportunity, he charged forward and slammed into Ethan, sending him tumbling to the ground. He knew only his determination would help him, he was growing physically weaker by the moment, but even if he only managed to land one good punch to Ethan's jaw, Jack had another idea in mind. The attack would surely catch the attention of any guards outside, and perhaps even the man behind the mirror would come in. Jack had a feeling that he was the man in charge.

But he wouldn't succeed at either plan. He hadn't noticed Ethan's ability to reach into his own pocket and pull out something, something that Jack didn't notice for what it was until the weapon pierced his skin. He staggered backwards, his foot knocking over the plate of food. He felt himself crashing to the ground, falling hard against the floor. He felt himself shaking uncontrollably, and in the last awakened part of his conscience, he was with a dejavu of that very incident with Rousseau. And then he could feel and remember nothing.

----

A new plate of food sat at his feet. He wasn't tied up, his hands were free to lay carelessly over his knees as he sat on the floor, staring at his meal. He did not want to eat. He didn't think he could. A trembling sensation remained within his body, though he was certain he was simply in shock. Helplessness was beginning to reach him, and until he found out where Kate was, he wasn't sure the feeling would ever leave. It was a natural emotion to possess, one that had to be overcome.

"Go ahead," the voice on over the intercom urged, "eat."

Jack didn't respond. He would ignore every order given and choose to act when he wanted. A plan was slowly coming together- he would have to frustrate the Others, intimidate them, even.

"It's not poisoned," the voice reassured, "I promise."

_Has Kate eaten?_ His head asked but his mouth could not. He didn't need to bother them with his emotional pain or expose his weakness. Which, he realized, was Kate.

"I'm not answering your questions," Jack began, not looking at the mirror or intercom system, "until you answer mine."

There was a pause as Jack awaited his answer. Then:

"What do you want to know?"

His heart skipped a beat and his mind began to race but, for once, not in a bad way. There was too much to ask. But he attempted to think rationally- what could they answer for him? Nothing philosophical. Something that could give him some kind of hint as to what was going on. At last the obvious dawned on him.

"Who are you people?" Jack asked. Calmly, neither impatient nor angry. He thought if he could show them that respect, perhaps they could show him the same.

There was another pause where perhaps the speaker was thinking, or grinning.

"You haven't searched the island, have you Jack?" Jack tried not to react, but he couldn't help it. No, they hadn't. "Why not?"

If they knew anything about psychology they should know. And if they were attempting to study and learn about a captive, Jack assumed they knew psychology. So he didn't answer.

"We noticed the scars on your wrist when we brought you in," on cue, Jack's eyes traveled to his wrist, sure enough, tainted with red and bruised skin. Again he tried not to make his reaction noticeable. He wasn't going to let a few bad memories give himself away. "We're not the only ones on this island, Jack. Who did that to you?"

He felt his heart rate begin to speed up as he considered just how much these Others could know about the island. Maybe they knew Rousseau was still out there, searching for her child. And if there were others, other victims besides themselves...unless there was more authority. But Jack wouldn't let the thought intimidate him. He had as much a chance of survival as they did.

"Maybe I'm a fugitive," Jack replied, sarcasm pouring through his potentially believable answer.

"There was a prisoner on the plane, wasn't there?" Jack held his breath. How had Kate slipped so easily into mind? "Ethan told us you were a lawyer."

He had tried to keep from being angry; he had actually been willing to have this conversation. But Jack couldn't stop himself from jumping up, storming towards the mirror. This whole conversation had been a mind game. They had only been waiting for him to fool himself with his own curiosity.

"It doesn't matter what I do for a living," Jack snapped, voice rising to a hoarse shout. The mirror stared back at him, but in his mind's eye he could see the faces of a cold, heartless captor. "Maybe I've been kidnapped before and maybe I'm not a fugitive, but none of that matters because you still haven't told me who you are!"

The argument was emotionally draining, and his mind fought at the effort. Turning away, Jack hid the effects but still listened intently for an answer. He knew he was smart and was capable of beating any mind game they threw at him.

"Look out the window, Jack."

At the request Jack turned away from sight of the window, keeping his eyes towards the floor. A hand lingered on his other wrist, lingering as- even in his protest- he waited for further instructions. But no more came. The window, he was told, was his answer. He had to look or else the conversation was useless. He looked up, fighting every conscious thought within him warning him to stay. Slowly, cautious of what he might see, Jack walked towards the window. When he reached the glass he found himself staring straight ahead at jungle, and he paused. He had no excuse not to look and his carefully protected curiosity was fighting against him. Jack diverted his eyes towards the world outside the window, the life beyond the forest and sunset.

The world below him was busy. People traveled by, one ushering a horse to somewhere he couldn't see. Others were scrambling around, finding people nearby to give orders to. That person would run off, obeying without question. They were dressed in normal clothing, wearing normal shoes and carrying normal weapons. He saw that some kind of staircase lay directly below him: a porch. A man sat on the bottom stair, a gun in his lap and a book in his hands. Kate wasn't amongst any of these people. Even the cages only feet away from the building were empty. The place was a zoo, literally. A whole separate world from the world. And yet, it seemed so unordinary.

"When you crashed here, Jack," the voice began; he assumed the speaker was watching him, "you crashed onto our island. This is our territory, our ocean. Our rules. We have our enemies, Jack, don't think we're not aware of this."

His mind was suddenly able to tear away from the life below as he locked into what he was being told. Jack turned away from the island below, back to the bare walls and empty room, empty except from one occupant. The enemy.

"I don't know who you think I am," Jack began, "but I'm as much of a victim to this place as those people out there are." He glared at the mirror, knowing he was meeting eyes with the person on the other side. The person who wasn't even brave enough to face his own captive. "And I'm not telling you anything until you come out here and talk to me yourself."

With that he turned and walked toward the back corner of the room, far away from the mirror, the intercom, the window, from everything.

_He felt so sick, so sympathetic, so angry that he was frozen. So many horrific, horrible thoughts were going through his head that they had eventually froze. He could only stand there, watching Sarah and her husband kneel beside the body on the couch, Sarah crying, her husband holding in his own emotions until a later time, when he could safely release his anger and sadness. He had to be there for her now, unlike Jack. Jack was certain they both wanted him dead._

_"Sam..." Sarah whispered, not even able to finish her plea as tears engulfed her efforts to speak. David's arm brought Sarah close to him, to a more brave, comforting position as he held her close._

_He should say something. Something to explain himself, why he couldn't save his patient. Why the doctor Sarah asked for specifically couldn't help. But he couldn't think of a single explanation other than that he had failed. And he didn't want to admit that he was a complete failure yet. He had failed at too many things lately to fail at this._

_"I'm sorry," he finally said, sounding out of place amongst the grief. Sarah sobbed even harder. David looked up to Jack, obvious anger swirling in his eyes._

_"I think it'd be best if you'd just leave," he requested coldly. Jack noticed how David's arm remained resting on Sarah's back, as though reassuring her that no one could harm her at this moment. No one meaning Jack. _

_Jack couldn't answer his request. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay, he wanted be able to fix things. There was still that part of him that felt as though he still had a place here. But when he stayed, not hesitating but with no intent to leave- with all intentions of helping them- David stood in protest._

_"I said I think it'd be best if you'd leave," David said, this time with more force. Even though his eyes were rimmed red with an effort to hold back tears, David still possessed that promise of protection that he more than likely assured Sarah of when they first met. He stood in front of her, protecting her from this man they were both certain would only bring her an unspeakable harm._

_"Let him stay," Sarah said from the floor, tears falling to the floor. Her hand rested on her brother's cold, dead, fingertips. The replica of his latest disappointment. "We have bigger problems."_

_"Sarah..." David retorted, turning back to his wife._

_Her shoulders fell as she fell into the helplessness that haunted her. As Jack would learn, they did have bigger problems. And this, he would realize, he should have thought of a long time ago. Then maybe the con would have never happened._

_"What about the money?" She asked her husband. She looked at her brother sadly. "The debt..."_

_"Sarah," David warned, "you don't have to worry about that."_

_"Yes I do!" Instead of turning to them her eyes remained to her brother._

_Curiosity got the best of him, along with a suspicion that there was another reason Sarah needed his help. She was wanting him to stay, even after he couldn't save her brother._

_"What's going on?" He asked, voice stiff. As he had been since he'd arrived, Jack felt like more of a guest to the situation instead of someone who was supposed to be in charge._

_David and Sarah glanced towards each other and then down to the floor, his hand rested on her shoulder and hers on her brother. They were trying to protect him. He wasn't apart of their lives, Jack was forced to remember, he wasn't obliged to know what was going on with Sarah's mother or the latest gossip about her aunt's fiance._

_"Can we talk?" David finally said. Jack had no choice but to nod yes. David turned to Sarah. "Will you be okay for a minute?"_

_Sarah began to tremble, as though she could already feel David leaving her. She agreed but only because she knew this conversation needed to happen, and she looked torn to do so. Jack felt his throat close up when he thought of Sarah down here alone with her brother's dead body. But David was already leading him upstairs, into the rest of the house that Jack hadn't stepped into since his arrival two days ago. The stiffness of the basement was gone as soon as David opened the door into the hallway. Jack felt immediate relief, like he could breathe again, but only momentarily as he remembered why he was here._

_"Sarah's brother," David began, meeting Jack's eyes as though eye contact would make up for the story he had to tell, "he owed these guys a lot of money."_

_"Were they the ones who-"_

_"And they'll care less if he's dead," David went on, ignoring Jack, "they want that money."_

_He couldn't comprehend the idea that all of this was over money. Sarah was down there, alone and broken in sadness, because of this. Because she was too noble to let her brother take the responsibility for his own actions. It was a kind of love that Jack was having difficulty understanding. He began to think about his father's own flaws. Should he love him, despite his mistakes? And vice versa? _

_"Sarah doesn't want me to get involved," David said, "but I know that they were going to come after us anyway, and I can't let that happen. So tonight...I'm gonna say that I'm going to go pick up her mom." He made sure he had eye contact with Jack before continuing. "I'll be back in the morning."_

_He opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out before David turned away. Jack wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He wanted to step in to help. Sarah didn't need to lose anyone else she loved. But something was holding him back, and he wasn't sure why. There was some reason he did not know of to not interfere. But an even greater part of him was the desire to be there for Sarah and the determination to win her heart. _

_"David-" Jack began, shuddering when he spoke the man's name._

_"Don't," David said. He turned towards Jack, cold and sincere. A man about to go into battle. "You can't help."_

_David hesitated a moment, as though he had something to add, or perhaps take back. He gave up the chance. Jack listened as his footsteps echoed down the staircase. He was confused more than ever, because it looked like he had no purpose here. And yet, he didn't feel ready to leave._

Jack watched the moonlight and tried not to feel intimidated by it. He remained in the furthest corner of the room, and he certainly felt like he was in a place that was empty. The town below was quiet, and there had been no sound from the intercom for hours. It was like they had forgotten about him. But what should of been a peaceful relief was a nightmare as anxiety quickly overcame him. He needed to know what was going on. He needed to know where Kate was, how she was.

His eyes caught the window. Jack took a deep breath. It was too quiet. Getting to his feet, Jack ignored the pain and stiffness in his body as he walked towards the window. There were no blinds or curtains to block his view of the world; all he had to do was to want to look at the island. Jack did. He looked passed the night and squinted in the moonlight that greeted him. He looked down below, to where he saw the empty cages from this morning. Jack's heart began to race. The cages weren't empty now. Stepping closer to the window Jack stood as close to the glass as he could and kneeled to the floor for a closer view. Someone was inside the cages, sitting the corner. The cage bars carefully enclosed the figure. They sat as far from the life around them as they could, probably cold, afraid. _That's Kate. _The thought came to him with the most horrific relief. She was alive but it was night, and he couldn't see passed this. This was probably done on purpose. She could have been hurt, traumatized. And he was stuck up here. It was like some sick fairy tale where instead of the prince getting to rescue the princess from the tower, both the prince and princess had been caught and taken prisoner.

"Kate!"

His heart pounded with hope. If only she'd catch his shadow and know that he was there. She didn't even have to hear his voice, he just needed to get her attention. He shouted her name again and again. He forgot where he was and began to pound on the window. He swore he saw her look around. Louder and louder he shouted her name, banging his fist more forcefully against the window as he did. He was willing to resort to jumping and waving his hands. She looked around once more, but when he was certain she had spotted him at the window, a door flew open. Jack ignored the interruption until he was forced back. His voice flew, his eyes widened as he thought of what had just happened. He was thrown across the room.

"Trying to wake the dead?" Ethan laughed. Jack glared as he slowly circled around Ethan, attempting to make his way back to the window. "Sorry, they're _dead_. But you...why the hell did you have to survive?"

He wished people would stop asking him this. And he wished Ethan would move. In a swift effort, Jack leapt out of Ethan's reach, dodging his hand as Ethan tried to stop him. Jack didn't want to provoke a fight- by now they may have realized what was going on and alerted the guards below. Still Jack attempted to look past Ethan and out the window, but the effort distracted him from Ethan's willingness to fight. He felt a fist graze his jaw, but he hardly felt the pain.

"Why the hell did you have to survive?" Ethan shouted again as the door flew open once more. Mr. Friendly ran to Jack's rescue, but Jack didn't stop to watch. He was now free to continue to gaze out the window. His eyes fell back to cages below. He could no longer see Kate.

"Sorry about that," Mr. Friendly offered, "it's past his bedtime."

Jack didn't care. His heart had sunken so low that he felt sick. All hope left him. He could have just put Kate in even more danger. Even so he couldn't help but to consider that the night was passing. Ironically as soon as Kate had agreed to move to the caves they'd been forced apart. He'd never felt safe on the island, especially at night, but at least then he'd had the chance to protect himself and Kate. But they would have to survive this night apart, and their only goal was to be together again by morning.

"Beautiful view, isn't it?" The voice wasn't Mr. Friendly's. But, at first, Jack didn't take the time to realize who the voice belonged to. "If you look past the cages you can see the ocean."

Upon the second statement, Jack's heart stopped once more. He realized who was talking to him, the same voice that had been talking to him all day. The man behind the mirror.

"I asked for them to put you here because of this," the man went on, "because I knew it would bring you hope to look out at the same ocean you see every morning."

He had to force his anger back in order to speak calmly. He wanted information and revenge...he just wasn't sure how to get them at the same time.

"Why do you care about my hope?" Jack asked cooly, eyes still gazing out the window. When he considered that the man behind him was doing the same and was studying his behavior, Jack turned around and came face to face with the man the voice he'd become so familiar with belonged to.

There was no distinguishable features to judge him by. The man looked as human as anyone he'd come across on the island, and because of this, Jack wasn't able to believe what he was seeing. The man was pale, even in the moonlight. Wide eyes. He was wearing kaki pants and a plaid shirt. Normal dress shoes. Jack was certain there was a wallet in the man's pocket, with a driver's license and pictures of his kids. He felt like he was meeting his own father, someone who acted like they knew more about him that he did. Who knew what was best for him. So they held him prisoner and took away everything he had to live for. Except the determination to break out.

"Because I care about you," the man replied. He held out a hand. "Hi Jack. I'm Ben."

The world seemed to want to stop, but Jack didn't let it. This man, Ben, wanted to carry their conversation on like he was the boss and Jack was the new intern. Jack wouldn't let him.

"I don't care who you are," Jack said, "What are they doing with Kate?"

Somehow, he thought that Ben might actually tell him. The man possessed nothing less than sincerity, even as Jack was cautious about trusting him. And this was because this was Ben's land. He was in charge and he had nothing to worry about or to be afraid of.

Ben turned away, but Jack let him just to see what he would do. If Ben walked out he'd be answering Jack's question. But Ben didn't leave. He only sat in the chair still in the middle of the room. That's when Jack noticed the plate of food on the ground. The meal was a steak, fruit, corn, and bread. A bottle of water sat next to the plate. Jack's stomach growled, encouraging him to eat, but he ignored his hunger. Nevertheless, as much as he fought hunger the more the food became appealing.

"Sit," Ben said. It wasn't an instruction but an offer. "Please."

Jack didn't, but he didn't take his eyes away from the food either. However, he wondered what Ben would do if he turned back towards the window. He felt like rebelling, finding out how much the Others really did care about their captive. But he also felt like eating...and sleeping. Maybe with rest he could think of a plan.

"I wish that you would stop thinking of yourself as a victim of this island, Jack," Ben said, "and think of yourself more as a guest."

Guest? No, Jack thought. Guest accepted where they were. Jack refused to accept being a part of this island. Maybe before, when it was just himself, Kate, and Vincent and a life of guilt and recovery. But not with the knowledge of these people running the island.

"So eat," Ben went on, "and if you'll answer a few questions for us, we can put you somewhere more comfortable."

Jack looked to Ben, meeting his eyes with the anger and protest he should have shared from the beginning. He was letting Ben read him like a book and offering every clue as to solving the mystery.

"I'm not answering any of your questions," Jack declared. He turned to the window. But when he looked below, the cages were still empty. He wondered if Kate had been offering any food or if she, like him, had been too stubborn to eat. Maybe he should rethink his protest...

"Ben!" The door flew open and Ben jumped up. Two men stormed towards Jack without Ben's consent.

"What's going on?" Ben demanded. When Jack was turned around he saw Ben watching as two men approached him, one carrying handcuffs. He was terribly outnumbered, and now he realized even more the importance of food. Still Jack attempted to fight the two men. With his right foot he kicked at them, attempting to knock them far enough away to where he could really fight back. But one of the man crashed into him, sending Jack falling to the floor. When he still instinctively kicked the air, the second man grabbed not his right foot, but the left: the ankle he had busted only a week ago. Pain swept like fire through his body, and the man grinned.

"I noticed you only kicked with your right foot," the man said. He threw Jack's left foot to the ground.

"Cut it out," the man who had knocked Jack to the floor said, "we need his help, not to injure him too."

Amongst the pain his mind raced with confusion. He was supposed to be a lawyer, what did they need his help for? No explanation was offered as Jack was lifted off the floor. Hand cuffs snapped around his wrist and fastened tightly. He attempted not to wince at the pain, but mentally he could not ignore it.

"What's happening?" Ben asked again. Orders were being made without him. Jack wondered if Ben had just as little authority as Mr. Friendly who, he noticed, had not come in with the two men. Even Ethan wasn't there.

"Someone's been shot," one of the men explained. Jack's eyes widened. They must have known he was lying.

"But Ethan?" Ben began.

"We couldn't find him," the man explained, "we got the other doctor to come in, but she couldn't help."

They led Jack towards the door and for the first time Jack realized he would be seeing more of the building. The hallway they led him into was a light color of green. He felt like he was in some kind of business- the carpet and occasional flowers sitting on bookshelves matched the setting. The air was cool and comfortable. But as soon as Jack was able to take in the area around him, he was being led into a stairwell. They rushed down sets of stairs, the men keeping a close hold on Jack as he was forced to keep up.

"Who?" Ben demanded. "Who was shot?"

They didn't answer. At last they left the stairwell and the men led him into another hallway, this one white. It looked exactly like a hospital, and the next door they through open no doubt led to an operation room.

"We knew all about you from the beginning," one man explained, "and since she can't help us, you're going to have to."

They uncuffed his hands and threw him into the operation room. A heart monitor was racing. Nurses stood around, looking puzzled and frightened. A body lay on an operating table, it's back cut open and covered in blood. And the surgeon standing before the body, holding a scalpel with a trembling hand, looking more terrified than any of the nurses, was Kate.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading and thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	17. Road To Freedom

On An Island

Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Seventeen: **Road to Freedom

She didn't look up when he entered the room. He crept towards her, unsure of what was real. Surely this couldn't be real. Now was where he drew the line. Kate standing there, pretending to be a surgeon. A body laying on an operating table in front of her, torn up and bloody. Nurses standing around her, all in uniform. These people, this place. He was in some horrible nightmare...but not only was he in it, he felt as though he had been placed in it. He moved forward, as though someone were pushing him. Eyes followed him as he did, all but hers. At last he reached her.

He stood beside her a whole moment before she looked up. He knew she could feel his gaze, trying to communicate with her without being caught, unlike they were used to. Shaking, she met his eyes. The entire room was watching as he contemplated what he should say.

"Finish the surgery, Jack," Ben's voice instructed him from over the intercom.

He didn't move. Their eyes never diverted. He assumed the Others were waiting to see what he would say or do. Part of him wanted to wait and see how long they would.

"Get her out of here."

His heart leapt at Ben's orders and he spun around.

"Okay!" Jack said.

He glared up at the observation room Ben was in. Then he turned towards the operation table and took a deep breath. With one quick look Jack knew what was wrong, and he could guess the outcome. Nevertheless he turned towards Kate and held out his hand. She stared at him for a moment, not in question of what he wanted, but of her own doubt. Then she handed him the bloody scalpel. Her eyes never left him, not even as he turned away. Hers was one of the many eyes that watched as he placed the scalpel into the broken body in front of him, knowing there was no need. He stood, wondering how long he should torture their minds before he admitted the truth. But he knew Kate was there, wondering as well. He led himself to believe that comforting her of her own failure would be easier than letting go of his. Jack waited another moment. He wondered what would happen next, who would be blamed. That's when he realized he theory was wrong: he wouldn't be blamed, Kate would. She would take the consequences. So instead of admitting her failure, which was really nothing of a failure, he placed the scalpel back down in what was left of the body's back.

He acted as though he had a purpose, examining the insides of the body, many nights of studying coming back to him. And all of that was for what? What was being offered to him here? Life as a captive, if not to the people of this island, than the island itself? Then Jack had to hold back a laugh. If he had gone to his father so many years ago and told him what his future really was, what would he have said? Or if he had said his father's own future? He wouldn't have believed him. He decided enough time had passed. Jack sat the scalpel down.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Friendly's voice asked.

Jack looked down at the body regretfully, acting as though he were honestly torn over this failure.

"I can't save them," he nearly whispered.

"What was that?"

"I can't save them."

The louder he spoke the more his voice shook. Kate let out a sob behind him. Everyone else was silent. He was shaken himself. He couldn't stand there, witnessing as no one offered any words of comfort to Kate, knowing that even as a captive the death was a burden. But then, Kate really was experiencing the true reaction to such a failure. Anger.

"Call the time of death," Mr. Friendly was as angry as Jack expected him to be, "there's a clock on the wall."

He had forgotten about clocks. About time. The only thing keeping time for him right now was Kate's crying...the feeling that he was being watched. The stiff emotion, the sadness. He didn't know why Mr. Friendly had asked. No one wanted to know what the time of death was like.

"Time of death is 4:16 P.M.," Ben said. Jack found himself grateful. Because when he didn't call the time of death, it felt more like the death wasn't his fault. "I want the nurses to leave." They did. "You two, clean up the room."

There was a sound as Ben turned the microphone off, but Jack could feel the eyes leave him as the room emptied and those select V.I.P.s in the operation room left. He wasn't sure if Kate was conscious of any of this. When he turned to her, she was still staring at him. Crying. He had never seen her cry before. He could feel her fragile emotion as he stepped towards her, unsure of what he should say or do.

"He was already dead, wasn't he?" She choked back tears.

He shook his head.

"Jack..."

He stepped towards her again as she choked out his name. He reached out for her hand and she let him take it. Her fingers trembling, he lapsed her palm with his. He squeezed her hand gently, a simple sign of comfort, but another sob escaped Kate. Their order from Ben was forgotten. Suddenly Kate stepped forward. She didn't say anything, but brushed a hand across the cut on his forehead. Jack tried to hide his wince of pain. But he knew he'd been caught.

"I'm okay," he assured her quietly. His own a reminder of what they were up against...who they had to fight.

He couldn't ignore Kate's well-being; this was the first time he'd seen her since two nights ago. He had know idea what had happened to her. "Did they hurt you?"

Kate quickly wiped away her tears, as though realizing she had been caught as well. She shook her head. She wasn't nearly as beat up as he was, only a bruise on her head from where someone had knocked her out. He felt relieved, despite her lie. Neither one of them were okay. They were in trouble, possibly in over their heads, with, realistically, no one to help them but themselves. Yet they had gotten used to this and so, theoretically, they were prepared with the idea of saving themselves. Right now, being reunited brought hope of their capability to escape.

"I keep thinking Danielle's going to show up with the navy or something," Kate said. She laughed, her smile shining through her tears. But she shook her head at her own hope. Jack smiled in attempts to reassure her, but he wasn't sure what he should say to reassure both of them. He felt like he should say something, give some kind of hope.

"She could still come," Jack chipped in, speaking lightly to fit the moment they needed, "there's always that horse...knight and shining armor and all."

This made Kate laugh. Jack smiled.

"We should start cleaning up," Kate said, shaking her head once more. She managed to cease her tears, her sadness left to her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She tried to slip away from his hold, but he tightened his hand around hers. Her departure came to a halt. She stared at him, as though angry at him for trying to break through reality. But he was angry at her for the same reason. He didn't want her to ignore the fact that there was hope for escape. He had- they had- survived too many impossible obstacles on this island to be left to be fed to the sharks now.

He must have said this with his eyes. She looked down to the floor, looking ashamed. When she looked back up her expression was blank, but with a trace of gratefulness. He let her hand successfully slipped from his.

They worked quietly. Kate immediately went to the head of the body. She stared at it a moment, Jack catching on a moment later.

"You don't have to-"

"Don't make excuses for me."

She looked down upon her warning. Jack remained silent, but subconsciously took the liberty of taking care of the worser part of the clean up. The body was too torn to be sewn back together. Jack found a sheet nearby. As though it had been waiting for them...Jack stiffened in order to maintain his anger. He didn't say a word about it to Kate, but he still felt like he should say something.

"Kate-" he still hesitated even as he spoke, wondering what he should say. Contemplating all the things he should say. He wish he hadn't hesitated.

The door opened and two Others he didn't know walked in. Whether or not they realized it, they were giving more information to Jack and Kate than possibly intended: the extent of their society, the advancement of it. But this thought quickly slipped away as first Kate was grabbed and then Jack himself.

"Don't hurt her!" Jack exclaimed as he saw a pair of handcuffs appear from Kate's captor. He heard her shout something along the same lines about himself.

The two Others just laughed.

"That's not exactly our goal," one of them snorted. This man was perhaps older than Jack, but not by much. He didn't know if Kate felt as much frustration- maybe for her it was only intimidation- but the idea of being held prisoner by men of his own age infuriated him, almost more than anything. These people had no power over them. And if they were to ever get off this island, Jack would personally expose this society to any and every government possible. He didn't want to consider that task had already been done.

Kate watched him, clearly afraid, as she was handcuffed and so was he. The emotion wasn't strong, more vulnerable due to current events, but Jack had spotted it, and Kate hadn't hid from him. This worried him more than reassured him.

"Where are you taking us?" Kate inquired, never tearing her eyes away from Jack. His eyes never diverted either.

There was no answer, and Jack was honestly surprised. He had learned that these Others valued their abilities...if they were proud of being able to accomplish something they wouldn't hesitate to boast. They enjoyed withholding information, yet they also had the same amusement when they chose to explain their riddles. But the Others never answered.

----

_Back home, around this time of morning, he would be going for a run, an attempt to clear his mind before he would have to force to clear it at work. He sometimes went down to the beach, where the vacationers were still asleep, save for a few that had the same idea of taking in the early morning scenery. Somehow, in the morning one could feel like they were above the world. While everyone else was asleep, they were awake, able to take the world in their hands. There was nothing wrong with sleeping, of course, but this was when the day was just awakening. Anything was possible. Jack took in a breath of fresh air. The beach, the ocean, was only feet from where he stood on the walkway outside of his hotel room. The sky stretched out in front of him, a cyclone of colors. The beach was relatively empty and quiet. He hadn't stayed at Sarah and David's...he had a suspicion that he wasn't welcomed there. And besides, he needed to get away. He needed to be away from that basement, see that there was more to the world, even though, at least for awhile, he would remain in complete denial to this. It felt so surreal to stand here in this place he did not know. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next._

_Maybe Sarah could tell him. She appeared next to him, placing a hand on the railing in front of them. She attempted to manage a smile but it slipped away. Like a rainbow on a rainy day, she wavered between speaking and not speaking, sadness and self-reassurance. At last he saved her the torture._

_"You don't have to be here," he said. He half-hoped this would convince her to leave. But she didn't._

_"I know," she whispered. She hugged herself, though it was rather warm for early in the morning. "It's just...I couldn't sleep and..." she looked up at him. He could see the truth not only in her eyes but around them, in the dark shade of her skin beneath those eyes and her tear-stained cheeks. But he knew he must have taken on a similar appearance. He hadn't slept last night either. "Have you had breakfast?"_

_No. He hadn't eaten anything since entering the country. Jack heard his stomach grumble in reply, reminding him that starving himself wasn't healthy. But he was sure he'd be sick at the very sight of food._

_"Want some coffee?" She asked him. She sounded as though she was looking for a distraction whether than simply eating. "There's this place down the street-"_

_"I'm not hungry."_

_He heard her breath stiffened. She quickly recovered, and he had to try to ignore the reaction. He didn't want to be alone with her, at the mercy of her questions and discussion. But she still wasn't leaving. He wondered what would happened if he himself left. If he left the country. Home suddenly felt very welcoming. Back to his new dog, to Julia and her promises of new beginnings._

_"You don't have to worry about us."_

_But the way she kept bringing up the subject gave Jack the hint that she wanted him to. She wanted him to step in and help. That had been her plan all along. Jack turned to her as he realized this. He couldn't back down now, not unless he wanted to risk the very little he had left of his relationship with Sarah. _

_"But you want me to."_

_Her eyes widened, but she didn't look to him right away. When their eyes did meet, hers were softened. Begging for sympathy. _

_"Jack..." she swallowed and looked down._

_"I don't get it," he admitted, "because it seems like you and your husband have the perfect life. You have his money and...everything from your divorce."_

_He felt sick as the idea dawned on him. He had honestly not considered it. He'd had no reason to. Had she planned it to end this way?_

_"Jack, don't think-"_

_"Did you plan this?" He demanded. He wasn't conscious of his voice raising or of the innocent people trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep in the rooms behind him. The sun was slowly rising, and Jack hadn't had any previous plans for the day, but somehow he thought his day had already been planned for him._

_She didn't answer him. They stared at each other, the horrific realization that he was right sinking inside him. But he also knew something else. He had fallen in her trap._

_"I don't have any choice, do I?" She didn't answer him, and he wasn't sure why. She was either afraid of being caught, or afraid to admit he was right: she needed his help. "So who did Tommy owe money to?"_

His eyes opened carefully, and Jack was forced to take in his new surroundings. Birds chirped. The sun was out. It was morning. Bars of a cell- a cage- surrounded him. He looked up. There was the building where, hours ago- he couldn't know how long- he had first spotted the cages. Jack was quickly able to draw his conclusions: there was a reason they were still here, in this area where Jack knew about nearby-surroundings. They were needed here.

"Hey."

The greeting was soft, but Jack was so relieved to hear it he couldn't have missed Kate's voice. Turning towards it, he found her seated across from him, at the other end of the cage. She smiled at him and threw something in his direction. Jack caught it, though he wasn't sure what it was. Even when he examined it he wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. It looked like some kind of animal food, pink in color, shaped like a fish. He didn't have to ask.

"Have you ever had fish-sticks before?" She asked him.

"Yeah."

"Those don't taste like them."

She laughed at her own joke, though the truth couldn't have amused her. Jack realized how hungry he was, but he didn't know if he wanted to trust any food he found here.

"Don't worry," Kate assured him, "they're not so bad once you get used to him."

She sounded so happy and he didn't understand. Even in his relief that they were together again, Jack realized he still hadn't smiled.

"You ate one?" He inquired, unsure if he should be relieved or worried.

Kate nodded. Jack still didn't eat. Part of him still felt completely absent-minded. In his effort to comprehend what was going on Jack had gotten lost in reality. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do or say, only that he needed to somehow escape this state. He needed answers...he needed to know what was going on.

"Have you eaten anything?" Kate asked.

Jack shook his head to answer her question. Kate smiled sadly and looked down.

"We've got that boar back at the caves," she said, "of course, Ethan probably took it home for dinner."

Jack laughed at her joke, at first lightly and then more forcefully. Her smile fell. Her face told him the joke wasn't that funny.

"Maybe you should go back to sleep," Kate suggested, "get some more rest."

He shook his head and looked through the bars of the cage.

"They'll be coming out here soon," he explained, not hopefully, but informatively. But then his feelings changed. "They have to. They have to talk to us. Someone has to come..."

Before he knew what he was doing he jumped up and stormed towards the bars. Banging his fist against the bars, he began to shout.

"Someone come talk to us!"

His voice was full of anger, hiding his desperation. There was a point when sitting around to wait for something to happen became too much.

"Jack-"

Kate's warning faded away with his loud voice. His eyes darted around, searching for a security camera. His fist banged against the bars, the action nearly forgotten until he saw he was making no progress. Where was everyone? Yesterday this place had been full of people... Swinging an arm around, Jack threw his wrist against the bars. Kate screamed.

"Jack!" She jumped to her feet, catching his hand before he could repeat. He turned to her, eyes wild with fury. It took her a moment to take this in. When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper. "That's not going to help."

She relaxed her hand, letting it linger on his arm. That's not what he wanted to hear. He wanted to help. There had to be something he could do to get them out of this. It was perhaps the most brutal part of captivity, having to give in to being so helpless. Knowing there was nothing you could do.

At last her hand fell, and as it did it brushed against his wrist. He winced as her touch stung, and Jack slowly opened his palm. His fingers were red, and there was a small cut on his wrist. Hoping for it to go unnoticed, Jack quickly wiped away the blood. Even when he saw that Kate was watching him he turned away, walking back to his corner.

When he turned away Kate hadn't moved, and she was still watching him, just like they were. It shook him, knowing he was under this pressure to hide. They were watching, and he had to be careful of what they'd see. He wanted them to see that he was angry, but not frustrated.

"Jack..."

Kate stepped towards him, sympathetic and worried. He spun towards her but then stepped away.

"What are you doing?" She said, taken aback.

"They're watching us!" Jack shouted. He realized she may not have thought of this...which was even worse. Running a hand over his head, he attempted to calm down. "Just...leave me alone."

He turned away, fighting the urge of what he really wanted to say. He wanted to find out if she was still okay, which he still should have been asking. He wanted to come up with a plan. But Kate still didn't move.

"Were they watching you?" She asked him, watching him herself.

He chose not to answer her at first, hoping she would just ignore him as he was ignoring her until he could think of something. But then he did. He walked back to her, stopping by her side. Leaning close to her, Jack placed his hands around her ear to hide their conversation as he whispered:

"Don't react. We can't let them know anything."

Kate struggled to obey. Her mouth fell open, lingering there as she thought of words to answer. At last she leaned up towards him, mimicking his caution.

"They're watching us?" She asked him. He nodded, and she froze. Her eyes stared to the ground below them as she took this in. She never recovered, and Jack took a step back to give her some space. His eyes began to search the jungle above them once more, searching for the cameras. Again he found none, but he glared straight ahead, knowing they were there.

_He looked at the address in his hand and then to house before him. It was too normal looking to be the right place. It was a normal looking one-story house, on a normal looking street. Normal looking neighbors laughed as they talked under a street-lamp. He took a deep breath as he prepared to walk up to the door, all the while reminding himself that he didn't have to do this. He could always just get on a plane and disappear from Sarah's life forever. But now he was on the porch. There was a group inside, he could just barely see them through a window, sitting around a table. One of the men looked out the window at that moment. His eyes darkened when he spotted Jack standing at the doorway. He stood up, and Jack felt his heart pound as footsteps moved towards the door. A main door opened, leaving the screen-door as Jack's only protection from the men inside. The man in front of him was normal looking as well, wearing kakis and a dress shirt. He was able to peer inside before the man blocked his view; the other men were dressed the same._

_"Can I help you?"_

_For a moment he froze, and the man at the door just stared at him, growing annoyed. At last he found words._

_"I'm looking for Jason," Jack stuttered, trying to cover up his nerves even as he spoke, "a, uh, Jason Gordy."_

_The man studied him, not because he didn't recognize the name- he clearly did- but he was contemplating whether or not he should trust Jack. Jack knew this, and this didn't help his nerves. The door closed._

_"Hey, Gordy!" He heard the man call from inside. Jack wasn't sure whether or not he was supposed to have left. He was still wondering this when the door opened again. Another man appeared, he assumed this was Gordy._

_"Can I help you?" Gordy asked._

_Jack wasn't sure what to say, but there was no backing out now. Again he tried to get a glimpse inside the house; he tried to get some idea of who these guys were. But Gordy was just as paranoid as the first guy. Closing the door behind him, he stepped out onto the porch._

_"Who are you with?" Gordy inquired. His now demanding and less-casual voice startled him, but Gordy didn't look like he was willing to wait around until Jack could recover._

_"No one," Jack said, "I..." he swallowed and found himself falling silent despite this. When he recovered he finally had enough confidence to at least form a comprehensive sentence. "There's a man, Thomas Waters."_

_"What do I have to do with him?" _

_"You tell me," Jack replied, "he's dead."_

_He waited a moment for Gordy to react. On cue, Gordy's mouth fell open and then closed again._

_"I understand that he owed a lot of money to someone," Jack went on, "and he wasn't able to pay him off."_

_He didn't seem to have heard him. He was too taken aback by Jack's first statement. Gordy's eyes darkened, narrowing angrily._

_"Who sent you?" He demanded. And just like that, Jack's confidence was gone again._

_"No one," Jack promised. But he was nervous enough to be certain that Gordy was reading through every lie. "I just came to pay his debt."_

_Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed some of those neighbors glancing towards Gordy's house. Whether it was because of this or what Jack said, Gordy's angry expression faded. Gordy laughed. Jack should have been relieved, but he found himself more nervous than before. Gordy's laugh was dry, amused. Sarcastic._

_"Why didn't you say so?" Gordy said. A casual tone to go along with his laugh. "Come in."_

_Jack took a glance behind him as Gordy ushered him into the house, hoping the neighbors noticed. But they had already gone back to their lives, smiling and laughing without the slightest hint of sarcasm. _

The sun felt hotter than it ever had at the beach. Though they were in the jungle, the cages were purposely placed in an open clearing. They'd had no communication with the Others. There was a pipe that released ancient-tasting water and then another with equally as old fish food; and there was a trick to being able to receive the food. He'd eaten some of the food but was still weak. The day still wasn't as busy as the previous; in fact, no one seemed willing to talk to them at all. He wanted to talk to Kate about this and everything else that had gone on, but he was still too cautious of the Others to risk something as simple as a conversation.

Across from him, Kate stood up and walked over to him. He didn't argue when she sat down next to him, not at first.

"I told you not to-"

Turning to him, she whispered into his ear:

"They know we care about each other," she paused as he took this in, considering the truth of it. That was their weakness, wasn't it? "That's why we're here."

He turned to her, and their eyes met. There was no denying that truth and they knew it. As soon as they allowed this realization to sink in, they each tore their eyes away. Silence drifted by, and Jack wondered how he was supposed to pick the conversation back up.

"What do you think is going to happen to us?" Kate asked. Her voice was small, almost trembling. She didn't turn to him, but Jack knew he should answer.

"I don't know," he said, honestly regretting he couldn't offer more. He looked through the cage bars, shaking his head at the world outside.

He looked to the ground. Tiny bugs crawled at his feet. Even they were free. Everyone else on this island was...even Danielle. Though they were all prisoner to the island, at least they could make their own decisions and have some control over their future. Maybe he and Kate just weren't good at making decisions. How was it that Danielle had survived sixteen years on this island? She didn't seem intimidated by the island at all. It seemed like all she had to do was hide, blend in with her environment. Maybe they were too set on rescue when everyone else knew there was no hope.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice was only a whisper, spoken so small and painfully he wondered if half of her had hoped he wouldn't hear. But he turned to her and replied. He knew what she meant.

"It's not your fault," he said, "it's them and-"

"I told them I was a doctor!" Even raising her voice only brought her words to a quiet shout. "I don't know why I just...they came and took me to the medical station and I had no idea..."

She fell apart as she tried to justify herself. But even though the Others were watching, even smiling as she broke apart because of her failure, there was no reason for her to apologize.

"It's okay," he tried to assure her the best he could. She wiped a hand at her eyes, still not turning to him.

"I don't see how you deal with it," Kate said, "not being able to save someone."

"I just..." Jack trailed off, realizing that he couldn't tell her the truth, which was that he could never deal with it. Every death, and even those failures that weren't death, stayed within him, never relieving him of their haunting. There was no reason that they should. But Kate didn't go to medical school, and she didn't sign an oath swearing that she'd never do any harm. "I just deal with it."

It wasn't really a satisfying answer, but Kate didn't continue to ask. She rested her head in her hand, obviously trying to recollect herself. Jack gave her that respect and remained silent.

"I just want to get out of here," she whispered a moment later, "I-"

"Sh!"

Jack had looked up at that exact moment, to the exact place he should have been searching all along. Hidden in a tree above them the camera was so covered by the jungle Jack had only spotted it by its blinking red light. The signal was blinking so rapidly, Jack could feel that something was about to happen. Kate found where he was looking at and froze. As suspected, footsteps approached the cage. Someone unlocked the door.

"Sorry, Jack," a woman's voice said, "but you're coming with us."

Kate jumped up as Jack scrambled to his feet, ready to defend.

"He's not going anywhere," Kate announced.

The woman unlocking the cage was blonde with a face so full of confidence it made him sick.

"And how are you going to stop me?" She replied.

Kate didn't answer her, only glared angrily as the woman unlocked the cage. Jack prepared himself to fight back, Kate had already thrown Juliet backwards, sending her crashing to the ground outside of the cage. There had been no other guards around.

"Run!" Kate yelled to him. She knocked Juliet's head against the ground- hard- with a single punch. He only stood in shock, not sure of what to do or think. "Go!"

He trusted Juliet was already beaten up enough to be disoriented. Jack did run, grabbing Kate's arm as she did. She struggled at first, clearly wanting to complete her revenge against Juliet. He finally pulled her away. He led them into the jungle, far away from the buildings and cages.

"Did she hit you?" Jack inquired as they ran. Kate shook her head. She was holding a fist that was bruised red, but other than that Kate seemed to be telling the truth. "Well...good job. Stupid decision, but still."

Kate grinned.

"You're just jealous," Kate said.

"Oh yeah?"

He was grinning as well, swearing all along- again- that he'd never take freedom for granted again.

"You didn't think of it first," Kate replied happily, "you just stood there and froze like-"

A gunshot cut her off. Jack grabbed Kate's hand, momentarily in shock. But Kate struggled to get away.

"Run!" She exclaimed.

Quickly and carefully he obeyed, running faster than ever. The gunshot then came louder, closer.

"Stop!" Someone cried.

At first, they kept running. Then a bullet raced past Jack's arm. Gasping in surprise, he heard Kate stop behind him, as did he, both of them slowly raising their hands in the air. Dread and anger ran through him. They had been so close. A dozen men appeared around them, closing in on them with guns raised.

"Stop," the man who had spoke said again.

"Okay," Jack nodded. He couldn't have sounded more afraid. "Okay..."

"Get on your knees!" The man yelled. They obeyed, but still the man approached Jack. He wanted to turn around to see what was happening to Kate, but the gun was pointed straight at him, fate staring him in the eye. Just then Kate's foot knocked against his shoe, signaling that she was there. Jack had to hide his relief. "Get up."

Jack's face contorted into confusion. He was certain the man had only spoken to him. When Jack didn't move, the man stepped forward, grabbing Jack by the arm. He was forced to stand, though Kate cried out in protest. He wanted to tell her to be quiet, that he was fine, but he couldn't. He was already being led away. At the last second he turned around, meeting her eyes: full of fear, regret.

_Inside the house was nice, decorated with expensive paintings of forest and islands on the walls, hardwood floors, and a big-screen television. He wondered if everyone lived like this in this part of the world. The group he saw from outside, sitting around the table, were each holding a deck of cards. Colored poker chips lay piled in the middle of the table. The men looked up as they entered, but when Jack offered them a small smile it wasn't returned._

_"This is-" there was a pause and Gordy glanced towards Jack._

_"Jack," Jack offered. He immediately wished he hadn't._

_"So who's he with?" One of the men asked. He had a thick beard and a scar over his eyebrow._

_Gordy grinned._

_"He says with no one," he said and explained: "he says he's here to pay Thomas Waters' debt."_

_There was a pause, and suddenly Jack felt uncomfortable. When the men then laughed he didn't feel any better. He stupidly offered another smile, to which one of the men offered him a drink._

_"I don't really drink," Jack admitted. The man shrugged and went back to the poker game._

_"So how do you expect to repay this debt?" Gordy asked. He went around and took an empty seat at the table, leaving Jack the only one standing. Jack stuffed his hands into his pockets, still trying his best to recover and hide his nerves._

_"Write a check?" Jack said. Again the men laughed. _

_"Do you have any idea how much money Tommy owed?" Gordy said. He lay a card on the table._

_Jack didn't know so he didn't even attempt to answer._

_"Trust me," Gordy said, collecting his share of poker chips, "you don't want to write that much money on a check. You don't want the government suspicious and all. I'm trying to help you here, so do yourself a favor and get out of here."_

_He would have love nothing more than to be able to do that, but Jack didn't leave. Hesitant to follow Gordy's advice, Jack remembered his promise to Sarah. _

_"I just...I want to give her family some closure," Jack explained, "a chance to move on."_

_Silence followed, and for a moment Jack thought they understood, but then Gordy smiled, a sarcastic grin slipping across his face._

_"His sister sent you," Gordy said, speaking not as a realization but a fact, "she never gave up on him."_

_Jack nodded, and, for some reason, added:_

_"She's a good person."_

_He was surprised at himself and so was Gordy. Gordy looked at him suspiciously, studying him before replying._

_"Then what are you going to do?" Gordy challenge._

_Once again, Jack was confused. Now Gordy was treating this as some kind of game. _

_"I want to pay the money," Jack said. He wasn't going to submit Sarah to have to deal with these people, and he didn't want to imagine what would happen if she didn't pay the money._

_Gordy stood up. The other men watched as he stepped towards Jack. Even they looked uncertain._

_"You sure about that?" Gordy asked him, slowly, as to assure that Jack understood him._

_Jack nodded. Gordy let out a dry laugh and shook his head._

_"You really have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?"_

----

He had too many questions to ask but didn't ask any of them as they led him through the village. He had been neither gagged nor blindfolded on the boat ride to the second island. Or perhaps the second island was really the first. Jack shook his head. All of it was too surreal. The zoo, the boats, the walking trails, the houses. He was sure he was dreaming. He hoped he was dreaming. Though he should be relieved to see civilization, but he couldn't be. Because the Others were anything but civilized. They kept people in cages. So whatever they were doing on the island couldn't be good.

"You ready Ben?" An Other called into one of the houses.

The houses were all small, cabin sized, and made a perfect circle around the center of the second town. Jack looked around as they waited for Ben's reply. A couple was sitting on a bench: a woman writing in a notebook as a man laughed. An older man walked along one of the paths, eating a sandwich. A book club was having a meeting under the shade of a tree. A new member joined them, and Jack realized this had been the blonde that Kate had beaten up. He couldn't help but to smile as the other members greeted her in concern, noting her bruised face.

"Come on."

Jack was shoved into the house, but before he was inside he noticed another young couple, sitting in the swings of a swing-set. The boy and girl couldn't have been older than sixteen.

The door closed behind him, and he found himself in a living room. Pictures of a young girl provided wallpaper for the house. The room was rather ordinary, as was everything about the society, for such a suspicious place. Bookshelves were stacked with novels. On top of one sat a plate. It was one of those made in school, where hand prints were sealed into the material of the plates. A name was painted on it, written in a child's handwriting: Alex. He wondered if that was one of the two teenagers he'd seen outside. Had they been raised on the island? Or had they been brought here? Maybe the Others were stuck here as well.

"Bring him in here," Ben said. He was talking from what looked like a kitchen. It was. Everything about the room was modeled after a normal kitchen: a refrigerator, a sink, stove, and toaster. Jack looked around the place, trying to hide his reaction. He knew he had to have been brought here so that the casual, humane, setting would intimidate him. "Have a seat, Jack."

"I'd rather stand," Jack replied.

He realized the other Other was gone. Jack glanced behind him. The door out was right there. No one even noticed him when he had been brought here. Maybe no one would notice when he left.

"Don't worry," Ben said, "There are guards outside the door."

"Doesn't seem to fit in with your society," Jack said. Ben stared at him, as though offended, but then smiled. The man was eating lunch, he noticed. A turkey sandwich with a container of tea sitting nearby. Jack's stomach couldn't help but to take notice of the sight, encouraging him to take whatever food was offered.

"Maybe so," Ben admitted, "but we have to protect our people. Please-" he waved a hand towards a chair, "have a seat...and some turkey." He pushed a plate of sliced turkey towards Jack. He didn't take it and remained standing.

"Protect them from what?" Jack challenged. Now he was amused. Was all of this because they thought Jack and Kate were dangerous? Kate he could understand, since she was supposed to be some kind of criminal. But himself...he was just a doctor.

"Someday, Jack, you may escape," he noticed Ben was looking out a window towards the book club, where Juliet sat, "and I need to assure my people that they're safe, in case you ever decide on some form of...revenge."

"If we escaped I don't think revenge would be on our minds," Jack admitted. Of course it would be, but anything to get them back to safety. But perhaps, like with Danielle, they would be too terrified to go anywhere near the Others' camp. "Please, just let us go."

Ben stared at him, amused.

"We didn't capture you just to let you go," Ben said, "that would be a waste of time."

"Then what the hell do you want from us?" Jack shouted. Ben didn't answer. Outside, Juliet had heard the yelling and was looking their way. Maybe they weren't used to fighting here. He wondered just how much Ben protected his people from the rest of the world- maybe so much that they didn't know what was truly going on. Jack almost feel sorry for them. "Why won't you let us go?"

Ben still didn't answer, and Jack's anger had already taken over. Without second thought he flipped over the table, sending ben sprawling to the floor along with his lunch. Ben looked up to him, horrified.

"That was the last of the turkey," Ben said. Jack couldn't control his anger. These people, the ones holding them prisoner, were just so confident and selfish he didn't see how it was possible these people were actually here. Even the ones he didn't know. How was it this society had survived without government interference? He was assuming any government didn't know about this place. Because if they did...if someone knew who Ben was and what went on here...

"Is that all you care about?" Jack screamed. Ben didn't seem to be worried about any of this...he knew he had everything under control, everything was working just as he had explained in the group meeting, deciding what to do with the castaways. When Ben still didn't answer him Jack pulled back his fist, honestly surprised when he was actually able to hit Ben before someone came running in, pulling Jack away. No time was wasted as he was tied up and led- forced- outside. He didn't know if anyone had come to help Ben. Everyone outside was gathering around as the Other led Jack away from the camp. Jack didn't bother to fight back, he knew he had no chance now. But he was satisfied enough.

"Where are you taking him?" He heard Juliet ask as she ran to them.

"To the Other island," the Other replied, "but Ben wants him here. It looks like those two will just have to learn to be friends."

----

_He groaned as he came to, unable to open his eyes at first because of the pain. In the back of his mind he could hear clinging of glasses and a person cheering over a victory. Pain crept through his body as he forced his eyelids to flutter open. He was welcomed by red. His face had been laying in a pool of blood. Jack shot up, only to fall back down in pain. This caught the attention of the men sitting at the table, one still grinning as he scooped up his poker chips._

_"Hey, your friend's up," one of them said. Someone else scooted away from the table. Jack watched helplessly as the man approached him. The man sat on his knees besides Jack and carefully felt the wound on Jack's face. Jack was holding a hand to his nose, and he knew without checking that it was broken. He hadn't been able to fight back in time; he'd already been knocked out as he saw the fist coming. Now, that same man who'd attacked him- Gordy- was studying the wound, concerned._

_"Hey, Greg, get some ice," Gordy called. One of the men from the table stood up and headed into a kitchen. "Sorry about that." Reaching down, he helped Jack sit up. "But I had to stop you before you got yourself into trouble."_

_"I said I'd pay the money." Only a few of the syllables were audible as he spoke quietly, painfully. But honestly. _

_"Look," Gordy sighed as he accepted a bag of ice from Greg. Gently he placed the bag on Jack's wound. He winced but was secretly grateful for the relief. "I think you're a pretty decent guy. I'm just trying to save you before you get yourself in too deep."_

_Jack glared at him as Gordy talked like he knew he could change Jack's mind. He knew what was really going on._

_"You don't want me to pay the money," Jack realized._

_"No," Gordy lifted the bag of ice momentarily from Jack's wound, and he shivered as it was replaced. "I-"_

_"Gordy," Greg called from the kitchen, "your best friend's on the phone." He spoke sarcastically, and by the look on Gordy's face, he didn't like this._

_"I've got a lot of friends," Gordy replied, "about seven of them know I live with my mom."_

_"It's James," Greg explained._

_Gordy sighed and shook his head. He handed the bag of ice to Jack._

_"Take care of yourself and, more importantly, give yourself a favor and don't come back," Gordy said as he stood up, "you need a ride home?"_

_Jack shook his head. For a moment he considered going back to Sarah, telling her the bad news, and getting out of the country. He watched as Gordy accepted the call and began talking. He didn't sound happy, and Jack didn't want him taunting Sarah and her family. He knew he was possibly fighting a losing battle, but even as he began to lift himself off the ground, Jack knew he wasn't ready to give up._

----

He tried to take in as much as he could about his surroundings as they led him to the cages. The jungle was quieter here than it was back at the beach he was used to, almost like something was missing. Perhaps the animals that were supposed to be in the cages. The question was, where were those animals now? He tried not to shudder as he thought about it.

"Welcome back," a woman- the same blonde from before- said from behind him.

They stepped into the clearing where the cages were. Something was missing, and Jack's stomach knotted as he realized what this was. The cage was empty. He was certain it was the same as before, from the same place beside the building, he recognized it all. But Kate was missing.

"Where is she?" Jack demanded, shaking with anger and fear. They ignored him as they walked him to the empty cage. Someone unlocked the door and attempted to throw him in. Jack fought back and turned face to face with the Other. The blonde woman watched, interested. He wondered why she had come back; no one forced her to. "What did you do to her?"

The Other grabbed Jack and again tried to throw him into the cage, but Jack shoved the man backwards and then threw his foot forward, kicking him to the ground.

"Where is she?" Jack shouted, kicking the man again.

Suddenly something sharp pierced his neck. His hand flew to the dart just before he began shaking, tumbling back until he unwillingly fell into the cage. The world shook before him, everything becoming hazy and violently unsteady. All he could do was watch as a fading form of the blonde woman stepped forward, shutting the cage door and locking it. Then he watched as his eyes fluttered to a close and he fell helplessly into darkness.

----

Jack felt weary as he struggled to stay awake. Worrying about Kate helped this as he stared at the ground, listening as someone approached the cage. It was the blonde woman again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her take out a key, but she hesitated before unlocking the cage.

"You're not going to try and fight me, are you?" She asked, attempting to sound amused; but he could sense honest concern. Jack let out a laugh. He couldn't picture himself putting up any kind of physical defense right now, and he didn't speak because the thought made him that much more frustrated. The Others' plan seemed to be falling gracefully into place. Yet the woman still hesitated to open the cage. She was studying him as she seemed to be contemplating his condition. He wondered how use she was to having to dealing with captives, and if she was more apart of the innocent society on the other island than this one. Not only was he curious and wanted to encourage her to answer this question, but he was also tired of her hesitation. So he asked:

"What's your name?"

He said it without looking at her though he grew more and more aware of her presence as time went on. Again she hesitated but then smiled. Jack noticed the smile falling across her face from the corner of his eye, softly and happily.

"Juliet," she replied. "What's yours?"

Her stubbornness began to irritate him. Here he was being honest, and she sounded like she was trying to play mind games.

"You know," Jack said.

"You're not going to tell me?" She sounded hurt. Jack wasn't effected by her reaction, whether real or fake.

"It's my choice not to," he pointed out. He still hadn't made eye contact with her and this made talking to her easier. Yet he couldn't help but to feel like he was letting her have some kind of odd power over him as he let her stand there, watching him ignoring her. He casually glanced her way, but he still wasn't ready to fully acknowledge their conversation.

"Right," Juliet said, "because you need to be able to have choices. Something to have control over."

He let out another laugh.

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out," he said, looking away.

"Well," Juliet said, recovering as though taken aback, "Jack, I just thought you might want to know how Kate was."

His mouth fell open slightly, ready to reply, but he wasn't sure what to say. Juliet had been unlocking the cage when he'd brought up the conversation. Was this all she was planning to do? Or was he going to get to see Kate again? He tried not to let hope get the best of him even as he turned towards Juliet, hoping this would earn him some respect. He couldn't overreact. Then again, she could be lying.

"She's safe," Juliet offered with another smile, "in fact, she escaped about an hour ago."

He looked away. He couldn't believe her. This was a cover up for something much bigger, much more dangerous. Leaping to his feet, Jack came face to face with Juliet.

"Where is she?" Jack demanded carefully, searching Juliet's eyes for any kind of answer. She simply stared at him. He wanted to react, to scream and fight back, but he knew they were watching. And he didn't know what was happening to Kate...

"Here," Juliet said, calmly, as to reassure him. Curious, Jack turned. She was handing him a box, like the ones restaurants used for take out food. She slid it through the bars, letting him take it. Jack opened the box and found a sandwich inside, topped with a toothpick holding it together. He stared at the food. None of this made sense.

"What's going on?" Jack asked. He tried to be as calm as Juliet had. "Where's Kate?"

"I told you," Juliet said, fighting to keep her patience and innocent appearance, "she escaped an hour ago. She found out she could fit through the bars so she climbed to the top and escaped. We tried to catch her, but she grabbed one of our guns and got away."

Jack remembered when he and Kate had escaped only hours ago. The freedom had felt so relieving, but in moments half a dozen men found their trail.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Jack shot. It was almost offending for them to think he was so gullible. He wasn't believing anything he was being told, and he was almost surprised that they could.

"Ben will be by to talk to you later on," Juliet promised, "and I'll promise you'll understand."

With that she turned, pocketing her keys. Wherever they had to take Jack didn't matter. Maybe he wasn't even important. But what did Ben have to tell him? Jack sighed as he walked back to the corner and sat down. He looked out the cage, helplessly, wondering where Kate was. What she was being told. How important she was to them. If she was even alive...

----

She could cry here without being afraid of cameras or people watching. Or maybe there were cameras here. Their entire island experience could have been a complete set up, a failure on her and Jack's part. Jack...she shook at the thought, crying harder and harder the more she trembled. He hadn't been on the boat. They hadn't even spoken of him. When she asked, they just remained silent. They'd brought her back here alone.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading, and thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	18. Save Our Souls Part One

On An Island

Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen:** Save Our Souls Part One

The plane wreckage was still there and everything that she had Jack had been able to salvage- hope, relief, survival. But now she felt as though all that were lost, as though everything they had worked for was ruined. And they'd worked so hard to overcome this island, so hard to balance between moving on and keeping hope. Now she couldn't move on and had no hope. And neither did he.

Waves splashed before her in their sympathy. A blue sky provided light. The salty water smelled refreshing as opposed to the grime and dirt of the cages. Footsteps from many journeys encouraged her to embark on the path to the caves, where she would find warmth, water, and shelter. But Kate sat in the sand, knees drawn to her chest as she hugged herself. She was crying. The memory of Jack haunted her as she pictured him asking her what was wrong and assuring her they were okay. His presence was still on the beach, and she could practically hear him talking to her. Memory wasn't good enough.

She jumped to her feet, letting out one last cry of tears. She needed to pull herself together in order for her plan to succeed. Walking to the edge of the beach, Kate remembered the day they found the guns. She remembered everything about that day: the pain in Jack's ankle that was torturing him, and yet they still swam in that lake. Then they found the dead bodies and were forced to face reality. Kate would soon be the one hit again with trauma as she suffered the price for her lies. Loneliness, loathing- at herself, not Jack. Somehow, though, they managed to reconcile. Piece by piece they built their relationship back up, and once again they could survive the island with an ally...a friend.

Numbers were recited under hushed breath as Kate remembered where they hid the guns on the beach. Carefully they had planned where the weapons would be buried: one hidden away at the caves, one buried at the beach and one in the jungle, and one for each of them to carry. Now their efforts would have to be proven necessary. Her knees hit the sand hard as she fell to the ground, but Kate ignored this as her hands dug at the earth. Attempts to recollect her emotions had now failed. She was crying again.

The whole seemed to be too deep as her hands ripped a part the ground, sending sand flying, even mixing with the tears on her face. She continued digging, focussing on seeing Jack again and rescuing him. Bringing him back to safety. At last she saw it. The gun was staring up at her. After she slightest pause as Kate quickly put together a plan, she grabbed the weapon, already letting her finger grasp the trigger. She fled into the jungle.

She was so used to running that she hadn't realized she knew where she was. When she was running from the law in the states, Kate ran town by town, never paying attention to where she had been. Now, subconsciously, Kate was recognizing every distinctive and insignificant detail of the jungle. There was no real need to run so fast, but doing otherwise made her feel untrustworthy. The caves were just up ahead- just a mile from the beach, just yards from the lagoon. God knew how far away from Jack. But she entered anyway, a pleading hope within her forcing her to oblige.

When you entered the caves, water was the first sound to be heard, free-falling in a relieving current. Sometimes the sound of swift rain would be diminishing now as the roof of the cave offered its protection. It was dark inside, yet darkness was good: it could hide you. But sunlight could still shine through, and a fire could be made if necessary.

Stepping in further, more signs of life were seen. Salvaged bottles of water carefully lined across walls, bags of medicine and clothing. Blankets for warmth, boots for hiking, sunscreen, skin from foot. And blood. Step closer. A trail of blood stained the ground, and it is now realized why this kind of shelter was needed. Protection...that's what it was supposed to be for. But be careful who you let in, because on this island, you may never know who your neighbors are. You may not even realize they exists.

Smaller caves dwell towards the back, allowing for a small community. A planeful of survivors. Or perhaps just two...like the skeletons overstaying their welcome in a nearby cave. Or maybe they weren't. They died peacefully, with no signs that the failure of the shelter itself was the cause of death.

There's plenty of room in the caves; only two are occupied aside from the main area. One cave is quiet and empty, home to only a few personal belongings: a backpack and a few changes of clothes. The next one is different. It's alive with suitcases and bags and necessities. A real pack rat lives here. They've kept anything that could possibly be needed, way more then they put on the suggested list of items to bring to camp. It's all right to smile now, because it's almost a sign of normality. But this isn't like a vacation. This person lives here- they're not sure for how long, but they don't know for how soon either. They've encountered obstacles on this island both emotionally and phsyically...pain and torture and grief. Friendship. Dare you say it...romance?

But you're still the only one standing here. Something's missing...someone is missing. You've seen too much of their life, shown too much of your care- and even if you haven't, you know they need to be found. And they're obviously not here.

----

She ran on despite being exhausted, despite the tears threatening to stream down her face. Her determination was so strong that Kate had to fight to keep thinking straight. She found herself becoming lost in her efforts to save Jack, and when she woke up she would have to remember where she was. She was just so used to running. Except now she wasn't saving herself.

Now this was territory she didn't know. The trees, the animal footprints. She couldn't recall them by memory, but she realized most of her journeys into the island were taken unconsciously. By people who knew the island far better than she did. Kate wondered what Rousseau would say if she came to her for help. Did Rousseau regret what she did to them? Or did she not even remember? Thinking over this only increased her rage. Hands curled into fist, feet pounding against the ground, too frantic to leave a trail. She wanted to scream. Crying would help. She felt sick and even furious at her anger, which she was slowly becoming inferior to. The sky above her was radiate with sun and a cloud-less day, offering plenty of light for her to search by, but also signaling another world. The sky covered many worlds, many lands where people were living normal to lives. Going to work, coming home to families, wives. Their parents were alive and willing to answer the phone. People living perfectly flawless lives, and Kate knew she should be happy for them, and she did, but at the same time she couldn't understand. How was it possible that two people were having to go through so much, alone. It was like no one even cared.

"I'm sorry." And so they sounded. Kate stopped. The person continued, pleading: "I swear it was an accident, you I couldn't- I was thrown out of the bloody army!"

A few more words were said, but she was careful not to be distracted. She was clearly entering a very dark place, where a man was crying and helpless to some unthinkable crime he committed. But she had seen too much on this island to take such an occasion lightly. She raised her gun. Someone came through the trees.

She recognized the symbol on the man's suite immediately, and so Kate didn't hesitate to secure her grip on her weapon, pointed straight at the man's heart. She was reminded, though, that no one she encountered during her captivity wore such a uniform. But she refused to relax. She and Jack had been too sympathetic, almost like they were desperate to find someone else as helpless as themselves. That mistake wouldn't happen again.

"Hello," the man greeted. He had an accent, but she couldn't be sure where he was from. Somewhere in Europe, maybe. Ireland? The thought disturbed her- how many people knew about this place- but Kate didn't let her curiosity show. "Can I help you, Miss?"

"Who are you?" In her head she planned this to go so smoothly. She could be one of them too- another smart, unsympathetic island inhabitant. There was no way to know who was the enemy and who wasn't. For the first time she could almost forgive Rousseau's motive. Here you couldn't show any signs of weakness if you wanted to survive. Yet her anger was pouring through, and Kate attempted to realize it by once again tightening her grip on the gun.

But the man himself had a gun. A rifle. They each were forced to stare into the barrel of each other's guns. Hers seemed so much more inferior to his, but she reminded herself of the gun's past. It wasn't simply a weapon from a selection of so many others. Surely the psychology of the weapon would manifest into something more physically harmful. She at least wanted to be able to frighten the man.

Only to herself she wondered how hesitant the man would be to use the rifle.

"I was going to ask you the same," the man said, his voice smooth and confident. The only signs of his grief were in dried tears underneath tired eyes. "But I thought, 'ladies first'."

His philosophy sickened her, and her anger wasn't sure how to react. Her finger found its way to the trigger. A gunshot rang out and the man cursed. She hadn't hit him, but she scared him. The bullet knocked effortlessly into his rifle, and the vibration to his hand from the shock caused him to drop the weapon. Kate was the first to get to the gun, but for all she knew it wasn't loaded, so her own weapon continued to threatened the man's life.

"Who are you?" She asked again. She knew it didn't take quick words and confidence to get another to respond. Her visible fury should have stiffened the man's confidence. It did.

"Desmond Hume," he said, "I-"

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm trying to tell you!"

Yeah, he was afraid now. Shaken. Pale. And he was already pale, she realized. His hair made him looked as though he hadn't showered in days, either he couldn't or he didn't care to. His teeth were yellow. Old scars laid to rest on the skin of his face. The Dharma suit he wore looked worn: covered with dirt and grass stains and, randomly...blood. But he was frightened, so frightened. She wanted to smile.

"I don't work for the Dharma Initiative!" Desmond said. He was practically crying. She felt like a detective, and this bad guy was about to go to jail. She was proud. "I swear, I didn't mean to." She wondered if he didn't mean to work for the Dharma Initiative or didn't mean to do whatever he did that caused him to so desperately beg for forgiveness before. "I crashed here, on a sailboat. I promise, I'm not-"

"Shut up," she didn't want to listen to his pleading anymore, "where is he?"

Dread sank further in Desmond's face. He looked like he'd be sick any moment.

"I told you, it was an accident!"

Her eyes flashed: anger, fear. She stepped forward.

"What happened?"

"I just..."

"What happened?"

"I followed him out here and-"

"Where the hell is he?" She was shouting now. Practically crying. She hated herself, the Dharma Initiative, the island.

Desmond turned around.

"Here," he said quietly.

He meant for her to follow him through the trees. Once his back was turned Kate swallowed. Her head was spinning; her feet were still running. Suddenly she realized she wasn't going to get an answer she wanted. She had to prepare herself so Desmond would never know.

And there was the grave. She swore her heart stopped. She wasn't sure how her hands were still gripping her gun. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to cry. She wanted to wake up and realize she was in prison, and Jack was at home, safe. Not there, under the ground, buried by some...some...someone who didn't even know him. She couldn't think straight anymore. She couldn't think. She was collapsing emotionally, falling...

"Kelvin-"

The name sparked a hope she didn't realize existed. She hated herself for giving into sadness so soon.

"Kelvin?" She replied sharply, now conscious of her careful grip on her gun.

Desmond's face was now colorless. But she wouldn't feel sorry for him. She remembered him being afraid, though now the thought only disgusted her. Desmond was only upset, and she had actually taken pride in putting someone through so much mental torture.

"Kelvin!" Desmond exclaimed, angry. "The man who's under the bloody ground right now! What the hell is going on?"

Kate had to speak slowly to assure he could understand her...to not let hope overwhelm her.

"That's not Jack?" She said, quickly pointing her gun towards the grave.

"Who?"

He would never know how much relief the innocent question brought her. She did smile. She let the relief take over, she took it all in. Jack wasn't dead. She didn't miss his funeral- her, his only friend on the island. His ally. There was still hope.

Then her moment was over. Solemn, she sealed her emotions.

----

"I was competing in a race around the world," Desmond explained as he led her through the jungle- her gun still close to her side- "it started storming. But I don't think that's what made the damn boat crash. It was some other force."

"Something religious?" Kate suggested. She wasn't really paying attention. Once she explained who she was searching for Desmond claimed he had information that could help her. She didn't question why he was so quick to help a stranger- perhaps because of the gun, perhaps because of genuine kindness. Perhaps because of loneliness.

"Something scientific."

He stopped walking. Kate stopped behind him and looked around. She didn't recognize this land, and it sickened her to think she may have missed information that could help Jack because they were too afraid to step into the dark, scary, jungle. When Desmond pulled back the bushes in front of them, she did feel sick.

"Ladies first," he said, holding a hand out to guide her inside.

"No," Kate said, gazing towards the inside of the building, "you first."

Desmond shrugged and stepped inside.

The doors were large and round. Security reasons, she thought. As they closed the door behind them, officially leaving the outside world behind, the sound echoed through the walls. First they entered a small hallway, leading to another set of doors. On a giant, circular handle the Dharma symbol was embedded. Kate gripped her gun, just to reassure she wasn't imagining its presence. Suddenly she felt foolish. Just because Desmond was alone didn't mean there weren't others, and there was no guarantee his story was true. Still she had to follow him...she didn't want to sacrifice any opportunity to help Jack.

"Home sweet home," Desmond sighed. He was being sarcastic.

They were in a living room. There was a couch, a bookshelf along the wall. A ping pong table. Through the open door to another room she spotted some recliner chairs and a record player. It was an apartment created literally into the jungle. Something that was underneath their feet this entire time. Now she no longer felt foolish...she was afraid. How many more places like this were there? How many more people? What was it all for? She knew now wasn't the time to ask these questions, yet this was the information that could help her find out where Jack was.

"I'm sorry this scares you," Desmond said, sincerely, "I trust you know now's not the time to ask questions."

"How do you know that?" She was gazing into a kitchen. A kitchen. A sink, forks, spoons, plates. Real plates. Running water that came from pipes.

"Because you already would have asked them," he said as he stopped again.

Now they stood in front of a room far more curious than the others. This one had a computer in it. The system looked ancient, with equipment the size of refrigerators (was there one in the kitchen?) standing against the wall. Wires were everywhere. Cautiously, Kate stepped inside the room. There was no mistaking the black computer screen to have only one symbol on it: a colon sign with a blinking line next to it, awaiting the next typed symbol, letter, or number. Ideas ran across her mind. Did Desmond have communication with the outside world? If so, why was he still here? Was he lying? More suspicious than ever, Kate spun around, keeping her gun low but pointed towards Desmond. What did he know about this place that they didn't? Why, after all this time and all these people and all this technology was he not able to be rescued? Surely he wanted to be rescued...

She heard something clicked. Head spinning towards the source of the sound, Kate saw a clock hanging from the ceiling. It was rectangular, with large white numbers written against a black background. The numbers read 107:00. She was curious as to why the island would be keeping time in a military manner. Was this a government facility? If so, why hadn't they been rescued? With each question, that one seemed to come next on the list.

"Dammit," Desmond muttered. He was fumbling around with some wires.

"What?" She glanced towards the clock.

"We only have 107 minutes left to save your friend." Then it wasn't keeping military-style time...what was it an alarm for? As Desmond seemed to have success with the wires he needed, he smiled and added: "And to bring him back here."

She didn't like the idea of running against time. Such pressure ensured failure. The procedure would require quick thinking, quick decision making. Ignoring the difference between right and wrong because it didn't seem to matter when it was a certain amount of time before all hope was lost. When you hesitated, you lost. The person you cared about lost. Kate didn't want to work like that...she didn't want to become an enemy on this island. She just wanted to save Jack. Was it impossible for them to be safe without becoming advocates to the evil manner of the island? Didn't they deserve to just safe?

"Why?" She inquired.

"That's when the world ends," he replied. He found the wires he needed. Kate's heart leapt as suddenly large doors closed behind her, landing on heavy boxes meant to allow them to escape. Desmond looked at her. "Let's go."

Fearlessly he ducked underneath the doors. Everything was dark. She hesitated to follow, eyeing the sharp, hazardous, bottom of the doors- blast doors, she realized. Only the boxes would keep them from falling on her, piercing and crushing her to her death. But whatever information Desmond had- whatever was beyond those doors- was supposed to help her find Jack. In one quick movement she slid underneath the door, eyes closed and bracing herself for death. Open air hit her, releasing her from fear. She opened her eyes, relieved to see that she was alive.

But something wasn't as it had been before. Through the darkness bright lights were shining. Pink and blue and green. They were shining from behind her. Slowly, with caution and anticipation, Kate turned around. She gasped when she saw the map, painted onto the blast doors. Phrases written in both English and another language- she thought it was Latin- were scratched into the bottom of the map. More words described places listed on the maps. These places were painted as circles and had odd names: The Swan, The Flame.

"The Staff?" Kate recited. What were these places? If this was a map of the island, where were they.

"Sounds like where we need to go," Desmond said cheerfully.

He left the room as she still gazed at the map. It was so detailed...unfamiliar events were even listed. It was not only a map, but a timeline. Kate wasn't sure if she was more angry or afraid...possibly relieved. If this really was some kind of island run by a cooperation, then perhaps they could be rescued. But then why were they being held captive? Why was Rousseau there? Unless she was a fraud...Jack was in the hands of these people, she realized. She had to get him out of there.

The lights blinked on and the door rose. Kate attempted to get one last look at the map, but the doors were already going up. Desmond appeared in the room again.

"Follow me," he said.

She did. This was the place where every question they had asked themselves would find an answer. They would finally be able to understand why they had been put through so much...because on a place like this, there had to be a reason.

Desmond led her to another door, a normal one, where he had to enter a combination. Kate tried to catch what the combination was, but Desmond remembered the numbers automatically, and too easily for her liking. He seemed to really know this place, but she couldn't tell exactly how much he understood it.

This time, Kate bit back her gasp but tightened her grip on her gun. Yet it would probably prove useless. The room he had led her too was full of guns, much more larger than her. Possibly more powerful. They were stacked on the walls, in cases.

"You're not going to take the hostiles out with that," Desmond explained. He through her a rifle he had been loading and took one for himself, and then a handgun similar to her own.

"Hostiles?" She asked, staring into the room. She felt as though she were in a dream. There was no way so much could have been a part of this island where, just days ago, the most exciting part of it was a lagoon full of bodies from their plane. There was Rousseau, of course, but even she was understandable in comparison to _this_. This was insane.

"Long story."

She considered rebelling and locking him into the room, but Desmond stepped out before she got the chance. Kate was forced to follow before she was put in that position herself.

----

The daylight in the sky was falling. It would be night soon, but already it was getting cool. He remembered that aspect of the island from living on the beach, though every now and then humidity would prevent relief from the boiling temperatures of the island. This was why he had been worried about Kate living on the beach- the non-stop sunlight and heat. Now he knew he had been right.

Jack sighed. For awhile he had been standing, just to show the Others weakness had yet to come to him. But then he was forced to give in as he nearly collapsed in the sickness he was hiding. The truth was, he was weak. They knew this and so did he. Though he had been forced to sleep from being knocked unconscious, he wasn't necessarily rested. And he still hadn't eaten. But he tried not to care as he thought about Kate, not knowing the status of her own well-being. If she had eaten or slept, if she was hurt or afraid. His hands clenched into fist as they had many times, even as wanted to hide his anger from the cameras watching him.

The ground crunched nearby. And again. He stood, maybe a little too quickly. Any opportunity to be not be inferior to the Others he would take it. But the person who appeared in the clearing was only a teenager. A girl of perhaps sixteen. She was carrying a rifle, and it was disturbing to consider a world where a teenaged girl was encouraged to carry a gun.

"Hey!" He called to her, speaking quietly. She stopped and turned to him. Jack hesitated when he saw that she looked sympathetic. He could accomplish something here; he just had to think of the right words. "Do you know where she is? Kate?" He shuddered when he said her name. Knowing she was so far away was terrifying. Even if she was just inside that building, they still weren't together. He couldn't protect her or even know if she was safe.

"They took her back to your camp," the girl told him.

His eyes closed in relief. Though he hadn't before, he felt he could believe this now. Something about the girl told him he could trust her. She was the only one of them that gave them the slightest hint of regret. He was grateful and even felt guilty about asking her to turn against her own people and help them.

And Kate was safe...maybe she actually was. He pictured her back on the beach, sitting on the shore. Vincent was there for her to talk to. She had food, water, and safety. If only he could get back to her and have that relief as well. He wasn't experiencing too closely the meaning of captivity. He could never feel safe; he never knew when he shouldn't worry. He was afraid and confused. He wanted to be back at the beach, where Kate was.

"Please," the wishful thinking caused his voice to crack as desperate tears blinked in his eyes. He could taste the opportunity; freedom was only a step away. He just needed someone to open the door for him. "Help me...I need to get back there. She can't worry about me..."

He trailed off as he thought of Kate planning revenge. A new kind of fear aroused within him. She would go off into the jungle, not knowing where she was. She might run into Rousseau again or that monster. He almost hoped he was misjudging her, that she wouldn't even care about rescuing him. She too, had experienced captivity, and- especially with her already being on the run- he knew she wouldn't be willing to be kidnapped again.

"Do you have a key?" He said. "I could...you could say I forced you to let me go."

"Like that wouldn't get me in trouble," she replied. She wasn't sarcastic but honest. Looking to the ground, Jack closed his eyes. His hands wrapped around the bars of the cage. The bars were full of grime and dirt. He was being treated as though he were an animal, whose only meaning of life was to be observed and even experimented on. If he ever got off of the island he swore he would never step inside another zoo. This wasn't right...he had never felt the need for freedom stronger than now. "I'm sorry..." she stepped closer to the cage so that they were only a few feet from each other. Freedom was so close. She had the key, he knew she did. "But my boyfriend's eating dinner with us tonight, and my father-"

A laugh escaped his throat. The sensation of laughter seemed so unfamiliar that he felt eyes watching him- and they were- scolding him from daring to take in such an emotion. But Jack didn't care. He even smiled a little.

"Your boyfriend?" He said. She didn't reply; she was serious. His fist slammed against the bars. Pain erupted through his bones, adding to his anger even more. "I have a life! I have a mom, and a job and..." It was one of the first time he had talked about his life before the island, and as he thought back to all he was missing he realized how much he wanted to be back home. This wasn't a vacation anymore, a relief from the responsibility of dealing with his father's death- the burial. An excuse not to confront the past or face the future. He was missing from the world, and he had tried to move on by saying this didn't matter. But it did. Yet there was still another life he had been missing from, the one he had been living on the island. "I just want to get back to my camp. If your people won't rescue us, just let me have that. Please..."

"But I love him," she said, "I can't get in trouble now...I need this, I-"

"I need this!" Jack shouted. "I need to be rescued. You're worried about your dad's going to think about your boyfriend? Look at what these people are doing- the people your dad's a part of! Look at what they've done to us!"

The girl's eyes began to swell with tears, but Jack didn't regret his outburst. He felt sorry for the girl. This was the kind of society she was used to: where the leaders- who she was supposed to idolized- kidnapped people, hurt people, and that was just okay.

"They're good people," she insisted, "really, you-"

"They brainwashed you," Jack said in disbelief. He felt so sorry for this girl, so angry at these people, that Jack wished she would let him free. Then he could take her away from here and show her that there were different worlds out here. This wasn't what life had to be like. He was even regretting the way he had lived his own life- feeling sorry for himself and never moving forward. Refusing to let himself move forward because there was still hope when, had he opened his eyes, he could have possibly lived a happier life accepting that certain people would never accept him or love him.

The girl was crying right now. Of course she was. She had so much on her mind. Here she was, holding a gun, trained to kill, being forced to hold someone captive. She was trying to live a healthy, happy, life with her boyfriend, but the demands of her society were holding her back. If her father didn't approve of her boyfriend then she could never be truly happy. He would probably take the steps as his father did, pushing her away if she asked questions or wanted him to accept her life as it was.

"Is he bothering you?" A thunder burst above them as a man stepped out of the building nearby. He was wearing kaki colored clothing and a short hair cut. Bangs danced in front of the man's eyes, and he wore a thick scar on his right arm proudly. He didn't look intimidated at all by the weather. That was because after this, that man would be able to go back inside, sheltering himself from the storm. He wondered if they were really going to keep him outside in this weather, but he worried more about Kate and where she was. If she was safe or afraid.

The girl shook her head, but the man still approached the caves, walking quickly

"Don't talk to her, understand?" Jack didn't respond. He was becoming more and more aware of the storm coming alive around them. The trees were beginning to shake in the wind and lightened flashed before their eyes. "Don't talk to anyone."

He looked like he wanted to choke him to death, or at least use some kind of violence to get his word across, but something was restricting the man from doing so. Instead he walked away, back into the building. Jack was left alone with the girl and the raging storm. He locked eyes with the girl standing across from him, and she still looked regretful, but both of them knew she couldn't help him. So she walked away. Jack remained standing behind the bars of the catching, one last hope wondering if she would come back. But she never did. Defeated, but not ready to give up, Jack turned around, punching the air angrily as he sat down. The Others were aware of his anger, and anger, he thought, wasn't really a sign of weakness. Giving up would be a sign of weakness, and he knew he couldn't get up. The growing storm helped his determination as the rain began pouring down.

_He should be driving to a hospital, but instead Jack kept to the main road, having no idea what he would encounter. The wound on his face felt more serious than he wanted to believe, and as he subconsciously would glance in the mirror he knew this was true. His face, from his nose to his mouth and chin, looked completely black and blue. The pain pounded within him like an extraordinarily loud bass, shaking his senses. He had to pull over._

_A small street of restaurants and bars greeted him as he turned into an exit, and Jack picked the first parking lot he saw to pull into. Shutting off the car, Jack sighed in relief as he was able to relax. His head fell back against the seat, and Jack closed his eyes as he gently touched the wound on his face. A violent wince shook him, and his eyes burst open. He grabbed his car keys and slammed the door behind him as he walked into one of the bars._

_Music sang in his ears in a language he didn't understand. Everything was dark, and everything was surprisingly quiet aside from the music. This seemed to be because the customers liked to watch as you entered, as they did to Jack, keeping an eye on every moved he made as he opened the door and stepped inside. Despite the attention, no one spoke to him as he picked a booth in the back and sat down. His head was now pounding so loud he could hear it pounding. Over and over again, as though trying to hypnotize him. His own mind was trying to capture him within pain. He felt betrayed, and still bitter, but none the less grateful for the relief of not having to stand or walk. Head rested in his hands, Jack didn't hear a waiter approach._

_"Sir?" She sounded concerned. Jack lifted his head, and the waitress gasped when she saw his face. He must have looked irritated, because then she swallowed, nervous. "Can I get you something to drink?"_

_Jack stopped. He wasn't thirsty. He didn't want alcohol. He had no reason to be here other than this was a place he could stop and regain his strength. _

_"Just water," he said. His voice sounded dry and painful. The waitress still looked concerned but still she turned, leaving Jack alone._

_He sighed. No one everyone had been staring at him when he came in. Suddenly he was grateful for the darkness of the place and the idea of being alone. But he thought too soon. Another woman approached his table; this one wasn't a waitress._

_"I'm sorry," she said, "but all the other booths are taken. Do you mind..."_

_"Go ahead."_

_She sat down, eyeing him curiously. He wasn't in the mood to talk, but he would have felt guilty later for ruining her evening. And she seemed like a peaceful guest; she hadn't yet spoken._

_"I'm Alana," she said, in a voice to cheerful for his liking. Again he had thought too soon._

_"I'm Jack," he offered unemotionally._

_"Thanks for letting me sit here," she said. He wished she wouldn't have. It wasn't that he was being rude- his head just hurt so much... "I usually go places alone, and that's cool and all, but it's nice to have someone to talk to sometimes, you know?"_

_She must have seen Jack wasn't willing to speak, because she didn't say anymore. He was grateful. Pressing his fingers as hard as he could against his head, Jack attempted to rid of the pain. But he was sure he was only making things worse. _

_"Here's your water." The waitress had returned. "I brought you some ice too..."_

_"Thanks," Jack muttered. He wished she hadn't have mentioned it. He almost wished she had forgotten about him. He just really wanted to be alone. He wanted to be able to think without this headache and pain._

_He was forced to look up as he accepted the water and ice, and Alana spotted his wound. She gasped. He really wished people would stop gasping when they saw him._

_"I'm sorry," she said, "I had no idea. I can leave if-"_

_"It's fine," Jack lied._

_He closed his eyes again. He wished he could sleep...a thud that sounded louder than it actually was slammed onto the table. Opening one eye, Jack saw that Alana had taken out a deck of cards. She began dealing a game of Solitaire. When the waitress came by again Alana ordered some detailed drink, like she had known exactly what she wanted when she came to the bar. He watched as she played the card games with a ridiculous concentration. Suddenly Jack had an idea._

_"Do you play Poker?" He asked._

_She looked up at him and smiled._

_"Are you serious?" She said, already scooping the cards back up. "I just happen to be the queen of Poker. I grew up with brothers, and they all had friends who would come over every week. Eventually they would let me play just so I wouldn't tell my dad they were drinking or gambling...and let me tell you, I surprised them. Since then, I've lost to no one."_

_"Impressive," Jack admitted. He watched as she re-dealt the deck into a formation for a game he didn't know. Then she looked at him._

_"You start," she said. Jack blinked._

_"What?" _

_"Didn't you want to play?" She said; then grinned. "If you're scared I can always call a few other people over."_

_Jack shook his head painfully._

_"I don't know how to play." He felt humiliated to admit it, but Alana only smiled, as though this was exactly what she wanted to hear._

_"Do you want me to teach you?"_

_He remembered Hibbs' refusal to let him pay the money. Maybe it seemed to fair for Jack to just write out a check, but Hibbs' s seemed more than willing to take any one's money gambling._

_Jack nodded._

----

Rain still fell around him. Night had fallen and the darkness felt darker than ever. He was trapped and everything was becoming worse just because of this. It was like no one was on his side. There was no one watching over him, no one to help him. Except that girl...that poor girl. He wondered how her dinner went with her father and boyfriend. Jack almost laughed. He remembered the first time his father met one of his girlfriends. She never believed Jack's stories about his home-life until that night, when she left his house stunned and confused. She hadn't thought those down-to-earth, strict, interrogating father's actually existed. They were only on t.v. and really only cared about questioning the boys their daughters were about to date, insisting on knowing everything from their favorite song (his father believed the type of music you listened to reflected the kind of person you were, and he was careful to always leave the car radio on a classical station) to colleges she was planning on applying to. He was left embarrassed because it seemed as though his father needed to protect him, select the perfect life for him because anything or anyone Jack chose would only leave him defeated. Miraculously he and the girl's- Susan was her name- lasted a few months.

Crying was soon heard. His head jerked towards the sound, and he was surprised to see the girl running from the jungle. Even through the darkness he could see the tears streaming down her face. She was running towards his cage, key in hand. He assumed the dinner didn't go well. Jack jumped to his feet.

"Run straight into the jungle then start heading east," she told him, choking back tears as she unlock the cage, "they won't follow you, I promise."

"What's going on?" Jack asked, confused by her sudden change. And why wouldn't they follow him?

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He did feel sorry for her; he wished she would run with him...he could rescue her from this place. He was looking into the eyes of a girl so desperate for freedom- and she wasn't even being locked in a cage.

"You're being rescued," she told him. She threw the cage door open. "Go!"

"Wait..." he had been waiting for this moment for days. Yet, it seemed so weird. He stepped out of the cage, and fresh air hit him. Freedom hit him. But something seemed wrong. He had to at least know the name of the girl who rescued him. "What's your name."

"Alex!" She yelled over the rain. She was already running away.

He stopped. His feet couldn't move and his mind was stuck in the past. Of course...sixteen years old. The girl wasn't American- she was French. He knew this girl...he had been tortured because of her. Kate too...but he had to remind himself that wasn't Alex's fault. He was confused, but he knew he couldn't let the risk Alex was taking be for nothing. He ran into the jungle.

_"I don't believe it," Alana muttered bitterly. Two empty glasses sat next to her; Jack had still only drank some of his water. She through her remaining cards on the table._

_"The queen of Poker, huh?" Jack teased, grinning. _

_"Shut up," Alana snapped. She dealt a third game- Jack had somehow one the first two. Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was determination. He wasn't complaining either way. But the hours were passing by quickly. His head was clearing, and his wound was slowly being left as a bruise and some remaining mild pain. Though he was confident Jack was also anxious to get the night- and the money issues- over with._

_"Actually," Jack began, standing up. He was grateful as only a little pain rushed through him. He felt better mentally and physically, and he was finally ready to leave the bar. "I should be going. Thanks, though." He laid down some money and explained: "for the drinks."_

_Despite the kindness, Alana looked disappointed, even as though she were about to cry._

_"Please," she said. She stood up and spoke again, only inches from him. "I really enjoyed tonight...I just came out of a really bad relationship and...you have no idea what it means for someone to actually talk to me. For someone- for a guy- to laugh at my jokes and pay for my drinks and..." great, she was crying now. It now killed him to have to leave and break this woman's heart...and he did understand what she meant._

_"I do know," he said. Swallowing, Jack looked down to the floor and back to her eyes, "my wife left me. I didn't do anything wrong it just..."_

_"Yeah," Alana said quietly. Someone who understood. That's what it felt like, for both of them and man, he was really regretting to have to leave her here, alone. "Please, don't leave."_

_Suddenly she stepped closer to him, took his hand, and kissed him. The hand holding his palm shook a little as she tried to deepen the kiss...but he pulled away. They stared at each other, and he became conscious of the people at nearby tables. The bar had gotten more crowded as the night drew on, and suddenly his lonely booth in the back wasn't in such a solitary place. But that wasn't the reason he stopped the kiss. He noticed Alana was glancing behind him, looking fearful and nervous. He looked behind him. A man and a woman were sitting in a booth, laughing and smiling. Alana looked horrified to see them._

_"That's him?" Jack guessed. "The guy you broke up with?"_

_That was why he pulled away. He knew their relationship would be too perfect. The way they met, the first kiss. All of it happened too easily. Now he understood._

_"It's not like that," Alana pleaded, "I knew he was there, and I just...I'm ready to move on, and I swear I wasn't trying to use you...I knew I was ready to move on, and that's because of you, so I was like, what's the harm if he knows?"_

_But now Jack wasn't sure if he should trust her. He had been hurt and betrayed before and this is what it felt like. So why should he believe her? Why let himself be hurt again? Alana obviously wasn't ready to move on...she wanted to move on because her old boyfriend had. He felt sympathetic towards her, but he couldn't contribute to her lying to herself. Both of them would eventually be hurt even worse._

_"I'm sorry..." Jack explained. She still had her hand on his arm and he pulled away. "I have to go."_

_He rushed through the crowds, wishing again that people would stop staring at him._

----

Darkness and rain fell around him so violently that all Jack knew was what was a few feet in front of him. But he didn't care. As long as he wasn't in a cage, or locked in a room, or around any of them, he was fine. Now all he had to do was find Kate, and he'd swear that would make his conscious completely relieved. He ran through the storm, fighting the mud and uneven terrain of the jungle, trying his best to figure out what way east was. He had no recollection of the area of the island he was in...not even from his long journeys of following his father's hallucination. No river, no caves, no anything greeted him except trees. Jack grew to be grateful and not afraid of the lightening that repetively lit up the island, for it provided light, but his heart leapt each time thunder followed. He kept telling himself to not be afraid, but the more anxious he became the more he realized fear was overwhelming him. Fear of failing. There was so much to lose...so much he was risking by running. Ironically, he had to for both his and Kate's own well-being.

It was also ironic that he was now officially a fugitive. Another trait for him and Kate to have in common. Maybe they could chat about experiences when they reunited, but Jack knew they wouldn't. The more trauma they experienced on the island the more their minds seemed to close, and even though they trusted each other and depended on each other, it seemed to take an unnatural amount of convincing to speak of even the tiniest details of those experiences...even the ones they shared together.

At last the trees were beginning to part in front of him. He felt as though he had been trapped in a box, and now he was finally seeing the way out. Through these trees was freedom, safety. Jack ran faster than he had before, leaving the jungle behind without care, letting the wind and rain whip his skin to pieces as he raced to sand. It'd never felt so good to be on the beach. He wasn't exactly sure while Alex led him here, but he wasn't going to question her honesty. For the first time since his escaped Jack stopped to catch his breath, hands on his knees as he slowly breathed in the sweet smell of the ocean. Closing his eyes, he let himself be comforted by the waves lapping nearby, the constant calming atmosphere they had counted on for so long. But the more he stood there, the more he remembered how much Kate herself had depended on the ocean and the beach, the area that seemed so safe to her. He knew he couldn't let another moment passed. He looked up, but slowly, because something caught his eye.

A piece of land stood opposite the ocean. An island. It was wide and, frankly, beautiful. So innocent looking and peaceful. Hills wrapped around jungle in random outlines, putting together a picture of a land so welcoming one would never guess what lay inside. The sandy shores and brilliant blue waters spoke the same message, but Jack could sense its terror from here, and with that terror always, without fail, came rage and a sick determination for revenge. Even if he hadn't realized this fully before, he did now. His determination to rescue Kate was becoming so great that he was certain he would be able to run across the ocean if he tried. He wasn't claiming to be someone special, but suddenly he just knew that he could succeed. But in reality, he wouldn't be able to walk on water. After all, he wasn't special at all. There had to be a way for him to get to that island; and he knew it was theirs. It seemed too insignificant for him to stumble upon this piece of land, to be sent to it, for it to mean nothing. Quickly he scanned the shore for a means of transportation. His eyes immediately spotted the canoe wading in the shallow waters. How had he missed it? Raising to the boat, Jack jumped in. He was still hoping that he could trust Alex, that this would lead him to finding Kate. If Alex was lying...he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to trust anyone else on this island- either of them. It was a risky habit for survival, but then again, putting your trust into someone is risky in the first place, isn't it? At least, in his experience...

He was reaching the center of the ocean, almost passing the halfway point between the two island. Once again he could feel that sense of freedom. _Taste_ it. It was all around him- in the wind whipping the canoe as he fought the oncoming storm. In the paddles of the canoe, rough and splintered from much use. In his ignorance, as he focused on his sole goal. Because freedom was being where he wanted to be, knowing the people he cared about were safe. Being able to keep them safe. Never having to use anger to fight reality. He paddled the canoe faster and faster, gaining more speed than necessary for such a fragile boat. But he couldn't slow down and he couldn't give up.

The raft gave a sudden jolt, and Jack scrambled for control. Again he lost as another shove came, harder, as the canoe was nearly tossed into sea. Gasping for breath, Jack turned around. He froze when he saw Ben hanging onto the canoe. But Jack wasn't really thinking of his safety. He was thinking that by Ben keeping hold of the back of the canoe, this was slowing him down from reaching the other island. With his right foot he kicked Ben, his beaten shoe successfully knocking against Ben's face and sending him falling into the ocean. Grasping the paddles tighter, Jack shook off the obstacle and headed towards shore. For a full moment he thought he was okay, and Jack took this in gratefully with relief. Baring a determined, straight, face, he kept the canoe pointed towards the shore of the island.

Suddenly darkness appeared before his eyes. He felt breath being ripped from him as a hand clamped over his mouth. Skin tore as his hand was forced from the paddle, and his back his the canoe hard as he was forced into the water. His mind reeled with pain and shock as he was thrown into the icy sea, sending shivers throughout his body. The hand was having more trouble cutting off his breathing as the ocean weighed him and his attacker down. Salty water escaped passed his attacker's hold and into Jack's mouth. He choked helplessly, feeling dizzy and disoriented as he fought for control.

He felt himself falling. His eyes flashed open for only a second, but he could see through his attacker's fingers that he was sinking underwater. Waves crashed above him, and his chest seemed to summersault in confusion. He was still falling. A sudden pain swam against his eyes: the salty mass of water engulfing him. He closed his eyes immediately. Still he continued to sink towards the bottom. However strong Ben was, Jack was too weak to handle the fight. He almost wanted to fall, for Ben to fail. But he regretted the thought instantly; even hated himself for it. How could he fight for so long and give up? Jack kicked towards where he thought Ben was, but he felt his foot hit only water. Heavy water. He never knew water could weigh so much. Perhaps he never knew what it felt like to be drowning before. He was beginning to think it was the slowest way to die. And he had to witness this. Breathing helplessly, knowing he wasn't fit for a fight against either Ben or death. Falling. Falling continuously even though he felt like he was moving quite slowly. Feeling life being sucked from him. All of this happening in a single moment. A single moment of his life that would either be his last or be yet another that he would looked back on, amazed that this event had only lasted sixty seconds. It felt like forever. He thought he was still fighting back, but he was truly conscious of nothing. Only engulfing waters, his breath being restricted all through this.

Then he was pulled to surface. He wasn't conscious of this yet, but he felt fingernails grip his arms tightly, leaving behind scars. To do this, the hand dropped from concealing his face. He could breathe again. His eyes opened as he burst into air, gasping oxygen into his lungs in large, desperate, swallows. He didn't fall back into the water but waded above it, held steady by Ben's hand. Right away he didn't consider that he was being held captive again; he was only relieved to be able to breathe. To see a color other than blue, for even the sky above greeted him with storm clouds. Rain fell around them violently, and heavy drops of water seemed to be slamming down on his head and whipping against his face. He was still cold, shivering, but the cool air felt relieving itself despite this. The relief only lasted a few seconds, though, and then Jack realized he was truly freezing. His skin was turning a frightening color of blue. Blue was taking over him.

"See?" Ben shouted over the rain. He was holding onto Jack's arm with a deathly grip. He could feel his blood circulation being cut off...he was just now recovering from the shock of almost drowning. His mind was even fighting the open air: he was flashing back to memories of being a kid. He had been a horrible swimmer, never trusting anyone who tried to teach him not to be afraid of the water. Only later did he begin to teach himself how to swim, and until then he'd had many occurrences like the one he just experienced. "You can't survive without my help. We knew you were too weak...come back, Jack, and we can help you. We want to help you." Jack tried retorting a response, but no words came from him. He felt sick to his stomach. He tried to tell himself that what Ben said wasn't true, but it was. His heart was pounding like mad, and his throat felt swollen. But yet Jack knew Ben wasn't telling the truth. Ben didn't want to help him, not for Jack's sake. "And besides, you have a purpose here, Jack. Just come back, and I'll explain everything."

He didn't have a purpose there. He had nothing in common with those people. Not mentally, not morally. Maybe Alex...but that was all. He didn't even wish to have anything in common with those people. He couldn't speak, but Jack still protested, shaking his head 'no'.

"Trust me, Jack," Ben said. His voice was honest, pleading. That scared Jack more than anything. Did they actually think they could get Jack to believe him? No. He wouldn't. And he wanted to get back into the canoe, to go to shore, to go back to camp. Make sure Kate was safe. Start a small fire and finally be warm. Get as far away from these people and this island as he could. "We need your help...I need your help. For my people's sake, Jack. Trust me, helping would not be a bad thing. If you'd like to think about it this way, consider it the greater good."

An attempt to talk would be risky. It could mean pain and failure. Embarrassment. But still, lips trembling, Jack managed to speak.

"Greater good?" He asked. His throat protested angrily at the effort, and he was shivering violently. His statement wasn't a consideration. It was confusion and disgust. He had to let Ben know that he wasn't just going to give in.

"If you would come back, I could explain," Ben said. Ben's own face was turning blue, and Jack realized that both of them were actually facing the consequences of staying in the rain, in the cold, in the ocean. Jack could stay here for hours, holding the pain in, and watch Ben suffer as he pleaded for Jack to help him and his people. "Just do this favor for us, and I promise we'll never hurt you or Kate again." There was a pause as Ben recollected himself, calming his desperate approach to his request. "You could go home."

Realization sparked within him like a match, in one quick breath of hope. The sensation rushed through him, and he could actually picture himself being rescued. Going home and going back to work. Seeing his mom, being back in his house in his own bed. His mind spinned with possibilities. He was ready to say okay, whatever it would take to get rescued. To go home, and to save himself and Kate from the island. He even thought the joke would be on Ben: once Jack got off the island he could alert the appropriate authorities about what was happening here. All of this could end. All he would have to do is trust Ben and agree to help them.

Ben was already smiling, and confidently announced:

"I'll take that as a yes."

----

"It's so weird," Desmond said as they journeyed through the jungle. Kate tried to ignore him and keep herself focused on looking for a trail- rain was pouring around them and any sign of tracks were slowly becoming mud. She was forced to listen anyway. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've been in the rain?" He was smiling. Kate could tell by the sound of his voice. She wanted to punch him, and she was a split second away from doing so. This was like another morning walking to him, just a quick admiring of jungle scenery before breakfast. It made her think he really had no idea what the island actually was about. "This is insane, this-"

"This isn't helping us!" Kate exclaimed. Her anger grew with every drop of rain that fell on her and escaped into her mouth. She didn't turn to face Desmond; she kept walking as she shouted at him. "The rain is going to wash away the trail! We'll never find him like this, we..."

All her blood seemed to rush to her head at that moment. She felt light, many times less than her normal body weight. She felt nothing as she fell, yet subconsciously all she thought was pain. Her heart-rate was falling, her breath was becoming trapped in her throat. Everything around her was fading away. She felt a hand grab her arm, but that felt so far away. The world was leaving her...

Until suddenly she saw sand.

Her face lightened with hope. Still on her knees, Kate followed the sand through the last part of the jungle, with Desmond following her from behind. She crawled desperately, frantically grasping handfuls of sand and letting the particles seep through her fingertips. Soon she could smell the ocean, the sweet smell of salt, the comforting lapping of waves. It was everything she craved: comfort, quiet, relaxation, peace. Somehow she knew this would lead her to where she needed to be, and when she finally collapsed on the beach Kate knew this was where she would find Jack. She caught her breath as she nearly fell face first into sand, completely over her momentary feeling of faintness. She breathed out a satisfied wave of air and at last looked up to see the anticipation ocean in front of her.

Eyes trailed the ocean to the horizon ahead, and she expected to see wide rays of sun, stretching out as far as she could imagine and beyond, to a world they once knew. It was what connected them to the rest of the world, this ocean and this sky. All of it was beautiful: the rain was finally coming to an end, fulfilling her confidence. The ocean met the shore and short, welcoming waves, and the sky stretched above them in a deep grey-blue, but not frightening as though a storm was on their hands. The sky was a breathtaking picture of the blue and grey colors, a perfect shade that brought the right amount of a stunning mix of emotion. The perfect emotion, as though someone was out there- or up there- painting sympathy. Kate didn't find the scenery intimidating or foreshadowing at all. It was just what she needed to see. A light at the end of the tunnel. A rainbow after a storm. That's all the picture was missing: a rainbow.

The only unexpected, misplaced feature was the island staring back at her. The land was not only blocking her view of the island, but it left another piece to the mystery. A terrifically frightening piece to the puzzle. A Jagged beach met the shore opposite to her, not calm and welcoming like the ones on this island, but haunting and foreboding. Immediately the jungle interrupted the beach, bombarding the potentially angelic sandy shore. But the sand didn't even look white, but well-worn and dirty- and not just because of the recent rainstorm. Everything about the second island personified a territory Kate did not want to enter, and her confidence crashed. This was a dead end. Even if they went to the other side of their own island, suddenly Kate felt all hope was lost. All because of this stupid new island.

"Hey," a comforting voice said behind. She sensed someone kneeling beside her. "Don't worry."

She realized she was crying. She never cried. Not around someone else, someone she didn't know and wasn't one hundred percent sure she could trust her life in his hands and Jack's life...what was she doing? She was risking Jack's life because of a hopeless search party. If she were smart, if she had been a better tracker, she might have found him. But she wasn't...she was failing, and suddenly Kate was aware of this. Tears poured from her eyes in helpless sobs. She wasn't even sure who she was anymore. What was she doing, running after someone? She should take the opportunity...run away before she could become more of a danger to Jack's life.

But she wanted to find him. She was so confused. Emotion overwhelmed her, emotion she couldn't even understand. All she knew is that she had placed the life, the hope, of a perfectly good person in her hands, and now she'd failed him. She couldn't save him, and if she couldn't, probably no one could. His life was wasted...everything he had worked for. His family...he was supposed to have brought his father home, and they hadn't even found his body. Now his ghost was left on the island to haunt her. She could never be free from this, never forgive herself.

"We'll find your friend," Desmond reassured. His voice was so comforting, so honest. Yet she felt angry. She felt the need to lash out. But when she turned to him, head whipping around in a gust of fury, all Kate could do was stare, and feel sorry for the both of them. All of them. She didn't know why she felt sorry for Desmond...maybe it was the last part of goodness inside of her trying to remind her it still existed. After this, it would be gone forever.

"Do you think he's over there?"

She wasn't quite sure why she asked, but suddenly she thought the idea should be brought up. Even if they could agree that, yes, this was a possibility, she was still at a dead end. She would have to swim to the other side and this time, Jack wouldn't be there to save her from drowning.

"Could be," Desmond shrugged.

Not in a non-caring way, but in a considering way. She was beginning to have more of a reason to trust him, but even as she did she still could not...not fully. It was part of her nature, from all of her experiences, to take alliances with caution. Even with Jack things almost blew up. This time Kate closed her eyes before tears could come, though a single drop escaped, sliding gracefully down her cheek. When she opened her eyes Desmond's hand was stretched out in mid-air, as though he had contemplated wiping the tear away. She was almost glad he hadn't. Yet she wasn't sure if she would have fought back if he had. It was confusing...suddenly she just wasn't sure of much of anything. Never before had she been so uncertain. Her life had always been so easy, a wave of decisions based on what needed to happen. She needed to give her mom hope, to be there for her. So she didn't follow her sister when she ran away. She needed to revenge the abuse her mother had fallen victim to, beating her into a confused, helpless being. So she killed her father. It all seemed so simple, so okay. But then she had realized her life wasn't a fictional story...you couldn't just kill someone you were angry at. Even if it felt so right, it was wrong. There were consequences to help prove this, consequences Kate had to run from. The running that led her here, to this island. Alive. The only survivor, except for a doctor she had never met in her life. It all seemed so strangely perfect: perfect scenarios placed to lead to one climax. But what that climax was, she wasn't sure she'd ever find out. Perhaps this was it. Maybe there was no understandable happy ending of the events. But she couldn't see how that was possible. How so much could happen and then...this.

"But we still need to search the other side of the island," Kate pointed out. Her voice was quiet, too quiet for her liking. Like a child pointing out that she and someone should be going on some special outing when things didn't seem to be heading that way. And she didn't like the idea of splitting up, even as she still approached her trust in Desmond with caution. If she were to find Jack but lost Desmond Kate had a feeling that Desmond's missing presence would always be in mind.

Desmond didn't seemed to unsure. He smiled, a soft, reassuring smile that seemed to lighten the land across them that had so haunted her, and brought hope to her worry.

"I know a way."

Her eyes met his, and suddenly she was shaken with fear. What was he keeping secret? He'd shown her the hatch, the map. What could possibly bigger than this? But he looked so proud, so full of excitement. She watched as he stood and then turned, meaning for her to follow him. Hesitant, she even considered letting him out of her sight and leaving herself to piece herself back together and continue her search. But then she became curious. What was it he was hiding? How would it help them find Jack? At last she stood up, with that thought, and followed him, considering this could be what was best for Jack.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading and thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	19. Save Our Souls Part Two

On An Island

Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen:** Save Our Souls Part Two

He wasn't sure what to expect, he wasn't even sure why he was trusting this man. Ben could have offered him a million dollars just so Jack would agree to help, but that didn't mean he had a million dollars. He didn't even know what he was going to be asked to do, but the thought of getting himself and Kate off this island brought a hope so strong he found himself following Ben, without question.

"If I could trust you we'd take the helicopter," Ben said.

Jack looked up, the word teasing that sense of hope, optimism, uncharacteristically igniting within him. Cool air urged him on, the storm having died away, leaving a safe atmosphere to step in to. Soft sunlight broke through clouds left behind, attempting to stir into storms but failing. A comfortable breeze shook the jungle around him, but Jack shivered as he was reminded of the damp clothes he was wearing.

"Helicopter?" He said.

"They generally get to hospitals quicker," Ben explained.

His heart began to race. A hospital on the island? The more civilization discovered the more Jack began to hope...maybe these people really could help them. Picking up the pace, Jack appeared beside Ben.

"How big is it?" He asked. "The hospital?"

Ben shrugged.

"It's decent," he replied. He began walking faster, as though to spite Jack. The ocean and the other island had long since disappeared, and now they were in deep jungle. No guards had come with them. Jack was certain there was nothing stopping him from killing Ben right then in there- assuming he was strong enough- but Jack kept following. He could kill Ben, he could get his revenge and then, with wishful thinking, end up back on his own island discovering Kate had been there all along, safe. And then what? They live in the caves until they kill each other for the last mango? If this would seriously get them rescued...

It even made sense. They wanted Jack's help in a hospital...something medical. It could be as simple as healing someone's broken arm. He walked faster, excitement stirring within him. The risk never occurred to him...he wanted to trust these people. They may never get as close to rescue again.

"What do you want me to do?" Jack inquired, excitement even evident in his voice.

"You'll see," Ben said. He was looking ahead, and Jack looked too, desperate for a look at this hospital, some kind of clue as to what was going on. But he couldn't see what Ben was seeing.

Breathing heavily, as though hope had exhausted him, he fought to keep up with Ben's pace. Salty water still drenched his clothes, and he was sore from efforts to save his own life. But yet he let hope lead him, determined to not let experience get in his way. How was he going to survive on this island, allowing the worst to always happen? Never having hope?

"The place is quite abandoned," Ben spoke up, "but don't let that fool you...we did the best we could."

"Who supplies all this?" Jack said, grasping the opportunity as Ben seemed especially pleased that Jack appeared to agree to help. Maybe he could get some answers before he left.

"That's not for you to know."

Jack remained silent, but questions still roused in his head. He wondered what Ben's opinion of the crash was, if he knew what made the plane crash in the first place. Why Jack and Kate were the only survivors. Why this island, these people. He never believed in fate before, but he was being tempted to. Why was he so special? Because he could help these people? Were these possibly good people?

"Here we are."

Eyes already widening, Jack looked up from the ground. His face soon fell in disappointment. He had half-expected to see a parking lot, full of never-moving cars and alert ambulances. A doctor rushing in to begin a night shift or tiredly heading home after hours of surgery. But this place...'abandoned' was certainly the right word.

The hospital stood in the middle of an empty field, a single, forgotten dirt drive leading to its doors: a strong set of castle-looking entryways that would have to be pulled out by two hands. Spare vines twirled around the sides of a grey exterior. The walls were rusted, a proud survivor of its age. Even the ground seemed to creek as they approached the building. Straight out of a classic horror movie, the only signs of this being a hospital was the worn sketch of the medical staff standing tall against the doors. Jack didn't dare to speak as Ben seemed pleased with the building's existence, but it didn't look suitable for a sanitary medical facility. There was one particular aspect of the building he'd noticed, though: the location.

"This seems far away to be a hospital," Jack said.

"This island is bigger than you think, Jack," Ben said as they approached the entrance. Jack looked up, in awe of aged features of the hospital. He wondered what these walls had seen. "Resorting to one location is how enemies are created."

Jack glanced towards him; Ben seemed to be implying something, but he couldn't understand what.

"Want to give me a hand?" Ben asked.

Stepping up to the doors, like an ant standing against a grasshopper, Jack placed two hands on the massive handle. Ben did the same, and on the count of three, Jack felt energy leave him as opening the door required double the effort from each of them.

Predictably, no light greeted them as the door slid open, creaking in its awakening. He wouldn't have been surprised if there was no electricity in the hospital. But Ben stepped through the door first, leaving Jack standing outside (there was no pavement, dying grass and dirt lined the yard and disappeared beneath the facility), and a source of electricity roared as the building inside too came to life. Jack watched as lights flickered on in the previous pitch black hallway, one by one allowing him observation of the interior.

Inside the hospital was as fragile as outside. The cool air stayed behind as Jack stepped into above normal temperatures and a stuffy setting for a place of healing. Dying walls held structure to doors lining the hallway. Paint raced shades of basic white to the rusty floor. A mouse rushed by to escape traffic. The cracking plaster made Jack wonder why the building was never restored, as Dharma seemed to have a strong sponsor. Even with the lights on he had to squint to find his way; he was afraid to know what the water supply in here was like.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Jack didn't answer, certain Ben could not mean the hospital. "That no matter how ancient a hospital is, we know it's seen the same type of patients for centuries."

"Centuries?" Jack said, stumbling over the word in surprise.

Ben smiled sadly and stopped walking. Jack stared at him, listening carefully in case Ben was actually going to give him answers instead of riddles.

"This island has a history, Jack," he said, "I'm sure you've noticed by now the exhausted appearance of it. There's justification for that."

He had a way with words, Jack thought; an impressive vocabulary. Was Ben a castaway, like himself? He didn't want to imagine a school on this island, more children who were encouraged to live this life. The thought even earned sympathy towards Ben...he knew the effects of a brainwashed childhood. What he was curious to know was how Ben turned the harsh lessons learned and taught into his current leadership. Though he had almost a quiet sense of confidence, letting you know he was proud of his work but not writing autobiographies, his success and pride was obvious.

Ben turned and like a person ashamed of their confession, walked silently away, leaving the topic alone. A stranger in an unfamiliar place, as the hospital wasn't set up normally- it was a stream of random doors, no lobbies or offices- Jack was left to follow Ben's footsteps and silence.

There wasn't much to be excited about after the first few feet, as the end of the hall was a mirror of the beginning. However, there was an equally elderly set of stairs at the end of the hall. With a child-like yearning for adventure, Jack hoped Ben was leading him upstairs (though the thought of how unsteady the building was soon changed his mind).

"The first few rooms are for emergencies, for convenience," Ben explained, "and so are the ones in the back...there's another set of doors there." Squinting, Jack noticed where a set of doors could have been, but they were too similar to the walls. One could have walked right in them and, after painful effort, found themselves suddenly outside. Ben had stopped close to the end and took out a set of keys, assumingly to the door they were standing in front of. The building's blue-print was almost like an old school building; the doors were classroom-styled and if he listened closely, Jack was sure he could have heard a locker door closing. He shuddered at the thought, at the ghost that really may have haunted the building. "But we needed somewhere close by for private conferences."

Pushing this door open only took the effort of Ben's hand turning the doorknob, but he had to kick the door to push it further than ajar. Jack peered inside, glancing around at what he was entering. The room was a classroom. Set up like a college room, perfectly straightened rows of desk inclined to the back wall. In front was a station for examining x-rays, and only then did Jack realize what the room was for.

"This was a med school?" He inquired. But that didn't seem right...there were strict requirements for entering the medical field, and surely a hidden island community wouldn't be granted permission. Then again, the island's structures were man-made and must have been for reason.

"Classes were held here," Ben nodded. "But that was a long time ago."

He took out another key and opened the door to a desk. The top of the desk was bare, showing no resemblance to the rushed life of diagnosing patients and healing. The classroom itself was organized, not that there was reason not to be: there wasn't so much as a pencil left behind in the room. It was as spooky as the rest of the building looked, including the dirty windows behind the desk, hiding the students from an outside world. Jack wondered what else was taught on the island. Who taught these student and where were they now? Where were the students? Again he got the sensation of being haunted. A cold shiver shook him despite the warmth of the hard air.

Ben had unlocked a desk drawer and took out a file. Nothing poked from the open edges of the folder; whatever lay inside was carefully hidden from curious eyes. Jack noticed Ben's hands were shaking. Nerves. Fear. Ben seemed oblivious of Jack's observation as he pulled out a set of x-rays and hung them under the light. Jack realized the rest of the room had been left to the peering light of the sun. Ben's pale skin stood out against the darkness, making him seem like just another ghost in the abandoned hospital.

"What do you see?" Ben asked Jack. Unlike his hands, his voice was steady.

With a sense of pride Jack stepped forward; curiosity fluttered in the features of his face. He examined the x-rays, ready to be able to make a diagnoses. As he had so many times with his father. At the hospital where they worked, together. Blinking away memories, Jack attempted to stay focused.

"The early stages of a tumor," Jack announced. Ben never took his eyes from the x-rays, his hands were still shaking. Hit with a swarm of realization, Jack turned to Ben. "Your tumor."

Ben remained silent, staring regretfully at the x-rays. For the first time he had nothing to say; he left Jack in charge of the conversation. Jack suddenly realized the upper hand he had here, what he was being called to do. Ben wanted him to save his life. To save his life so he could continue doing this, leading this place, doing these horrible things to innocent people. Heart gaining speed, Jack suddenly felt trapped. What had he agreed to do? He turned from the x-rays, a hand on his head. Ben kept staring at the x-rays. Jack was grateful. He didn't want to do the surgery. Evil as it sounded, Jack couldn't bare to think of saving the life of the man who had put himself and Kate through so much suffering. And he very well could be lying about rescue. He had to get himself out of this.

"Don't you have another surgeon?" Jack asked, staring wide-eyed into nothing, still turned from the x-rays. "Someone who works for you."

"Why else do you think Ethan envies you?"

Slowly Jack turned around, mouth falling open in shock. Then this didn't even make since. This was all some game...some mind game. Something wasn't right. Something had to be wrong.

"Can't he do the surgery?" He was afraid of the answer. There was some sort of experiment going on. Some sort of cruel game. He didn't understand...he didn't want to, and it was a frightening feeling.

"You're the better surgeon," Ben explained.

Relieved, Jack felt a weight lifted from him. So this was simpler than thought. Ben just wanted to him to save his life...he thought Jack would trust him.

"And if I do this," Jack began, "you'll let me go home?"

He hated saying the word. The place felt so far away when it was being used as a piece in this deal. A place that would only exists if he would make a deal with the devil.

"We're not bad people, Jack," Ben said. His eyes were lost in the x-rays, transfixed by the danger his life was in. "In fact, you don't even know who we are."

"Maybe that's because you've been keeping me in a cage," Jack said, disgusted. He stepped towards Ben, eyes glaring in anger, hands tightening and curling into fist. "Spied on me with one-way mirrors and cameras. Separated me from my friend. You're keeping us on this island when you say you could take us home!"

His fury echoed through the decaying building, sending cracks in walls scurrying to brace for growth. Mice fled back into their homes and windows winced at the impact forgetting how shouting felt: angry doctors failing at saving and frustrated with their own stupidity. Ghost of students looked up...finally something interesting was happening in class, after all these long, silent years where the world, too, seemed asleep. Everything could come to life again and continue growing as long as Jack saved Ben's life. Emotion threatened to break, his skin cracking along with the walls in failed attempts to hold it all in: the anger, the confusion. He had a voice, he had feelings. He had people he cared about, and Ben seemed oblivious to all of this.

"Does she want to go home?" Spoken so quietly, so gently, as though Ben knew he was right.

Anger was becoming more stressful to control.

"Excuse me?" Jack took another step forward. He wondered if he had the strength to kill someone. He wondered if he had the mental ability too...if, somewhere within him, there was a darker side of him aching to be heard; sick of suffering and ready for revenge.

"Think about it, Jack." His name coming from Ben's cruel vocabulary made him shiver. Ben turned to him, mind completely leaving behind the x-rays and effortlessly coming home to the leadership of evil it was so used to guiding. The building suddenly felt cold, full of wondering, intimidating, eyes, asking if Jack was strong enough. If he would coward to the corner, begging for the gift of freedom in Ben's deals. He could actually fight, if he wanted to. Beat Ben at his own game. "If she leaves she's being sentenced to years of prison."

"We've already talked about it," Jack replied coldly.

Ben smiled at thought put into Jack's remark.

"And what did you decide?"

He stared at Jack, daring to meet his eyes, ego flashing inside them. The whispering of the unseen life around him grew louder, more forceful, more hopeful. All this encouraging him, he could feel it. In a final rage of confident anger Jack leaped forward, grabbing Ben by the collar and crashing to the floor again, so eager to fight he didn't wince at the impact. He raised his fist, fingers not shaking but strong and angry, and watched as he slammed his knuckles into Ben's face. He'd never felt so overwhelmed with violence. Again he hit Ben and blood erupted from the man's nose. But as Jack tried for a third time, Ben grabbed his arm, fingernails digging painfully into Jack's skin as he held his fist back. Gasping in pain Jack felt his triumph begin to flee the room, and he had to fight to gain it back. His left hand slipped from the floor, immediately becoming another fist of rage aimed towards Ben. Immediately blocked. Jack's eyes widened in surprise. He shook as he tried to maintain his strength, finding himself nearly holding Ben's hand even as he tried to protect himself. He could picture movies where a person in his position could easily roll over, sending his attacker sailing over him, quickly able to regain the advantage. Jack attempted this, willingly throwing himself to the space beside Ben on the floor, back hitting the cracking floor hard. Releasing his fist from Ben's hold he successfully threw Ben off of him and scrambled to his feet, breathing hard. But Ben was already standing up, approaching Jack. Instinctively Jack backed away, cowering to the corner, fear whispering soothingly into his ear, reminding him defeat could be as easy as begging for mercy. But he remained calm, shoving the voice away with another imaginary fist. He charged towards Ben, dozens of plans of attack buzzing in his minds. A taser gun pointed at him scared the ideas away. Jack stopped, heart beating in frantic worry. Fear sighed in relief, but the ghost around him turned their eyes in disappointment.

"As I was telling you, Jack," Ben said. Jack was at least pleased to hear the pain in his voice...blood was trickling down Ben's face while only a need to regain his breath and red marks on his arm served as injuries for himself. "You don't know who we are. But if it would change your mind, I could tell you. In fact...you might even be interested."

Smiling at the thought, Ben disappeared from the room. Jack frowned. 'Interested'? But the thought quickly went away as he heard Ben's footsteps disappear down the hall. His mind began to race. He could run...but surely it wouldn't be that easy. Ben would know he would try to escape...Jack remembered the taser gun. But he couldn't just stand here, staring at the door to freedom. Jack fled into the hallway and stopped. It was empty. His heart was pounding loudly...it seemed to echo in the hallway. He panicked. The door to the hospital had been left open, perhaps a way to let people know where they were. But he needed to get out of there. He needed to get back to the canoe, back to their camp to see if Kate was there. And if she wasn't...he would come back and rescue her. The idea sealed his decision.

A hand fell on his shoulder. Jack gasped, shuddering as he turned to face Ben. Ben's face expressed disappointment.

"Surely you wouldn't want to leave without answers?" Ben said. Looking behind Ben, catching his breath, Jack noticed an examination table on wheels sat near the classroom door. A white sheet covered the table, outlines of a human form could be detected.

----

The sun quickly stormed into the sky, drying up the rain's effects with bright rays and a smile. For awhile it was cool, but heat was raising again. Kate had to squint in the sunlight to properly examine what Desmond's plan of rescue was: a sailboat. Floating just off-shore, ready to set sail was a sailboat named _Elizabeth_. It tilted ever eagerly with each passing wave. Desmond was grinning.

"You have a sailboat?" She asked. It wasn't to state the obvious...there was so much to be asked. If he had a sailboat then why stay on the island? Not to mention she had no idea who this guy actually was. Just for reassurance Kate tightened her grip on her gun...Desmond's gun.

"My dear_ Elizabeth_," Desmond replied happily. "Given to me by...Elizabeth. Long story." He turned Kate, grin never having left his face. "Ready to set sail?"

She stared at him in disbelief. This couldn't be the only way. The plan seemed to untrustworthy. Too...perfect. She was desperate to get Jack back, but she couldn't make things worse. Things had to run smoothly. But it was the only plan she had...the only plan in sight.

----

Just because Ben had predicted it, Jack tried not to look interested as Ben prepared to unveil the truth. Supposed truth. He didn't seem nervous so Jack kept calm as well, watching as Ben began to pull back the white sheet. They were back in the class room; the x-rays still hung nearby. Ben's nose was bruised from the fight. And underneath the sheet was the same victim he failed to save. The one Kate had been told to save. Jack tensed but tried to hide obvious reaction.

"What does this mean?" Jack asked, sounding more angry than confused. He was angry...why did the Others have to haunt them like this? Jack stared down at the mess of blood, a broken body. Closed, dead eyes.

"This person, Jack," Ben began, staring blankly down at the body; no regret, not longingly, as though he cared about the person, "is not dead." Jack looked up at him, eyes wide with confusion and anger. Of course this person is dead...his heart began pounding again. Unless he expected Jack to bring them back to life. "This person isn't even a person."

Jack blinked. His anger diminished, confusion took over all open emotion.

"She's a machine," Ben explained, "looks like a human both inside in out, but you'll never find a working part in her." He looked up at Jack. "I was surprised to see you didn't catch that." Jack didn't answer...he was surprised too. Disappointed. How had he not realized he was working on a...robot? All Kate had gone through...it was all a mind game. "This is what modern science has come to, Jack, or at least on this island. Our studies advance every day. Our theories are above and beyond anything you'll read in a collage textbook."

That doesn't make this right, Jack thought. The Others were just killing two birds with one stone: science and psychology. Hypocritical, unfair, and unmoral. And Jack wasn't going to do anything to help them.

"I know this may be overwhelming," Ben said, "so I'll give you some time to think." Jack watched, hatred in his eyes as they saw Ben open the desk drawer again, this time bringing out another file. "A little reading for while I'm gone."

He remained silent, as though keeping a secret to himself, smiling grimly as he exited. Jack stared at the file on the desk; the unhuman body lay in view. Ben seriously thought he would fall victim to more of his mind games. No. In all his anger and hatred he turned around abruptly, slamming his hand on one of the desk.

----

A breeze welcomed them to sea: Desmond steering his boat and Kate leaning against the rail of the ship, studying the island. Looking for Jack though she knew, deep down, it wouldn't be that easy. She pictured him being locked up in the cage, having eaten nothing but fish food- had he even eaten that- and drinking water from the cage's pipes. He probably hadn't slept in days. Then the thought crossed her mind that he might be somewhere else, somewhere she didn't know of. Somewhere they were hiding him so she could never find them. Or he could be...tears filled her eyes at the thought. She couldn't hold emotion back anymore. The thought, with each time it passed, reminded her of the possibility that Jack could actually be...dead. Her hands began to tremble from where they were dangling over the sailboat's railing, a salty mist messaging them. But she couldn't be comforted. She felt alone, helpless. Jack was hurt, he was missing, he could be dead...and this was her fault. She felt like she wasn't doing enough, that even though there was no way she could have done more, she could have. She could have done _something_.

"We'll find your friend," Desmond announced from where he was guiding the boat. Kate heard his reassuring voice, stating his promise not as a possibility, but as a fact. She trembled more violently, becoming shaken with guilt and consumed with worry. Jack had a family. He had a career, people he worked with. She couldn't go back and tell them he died. That she couldn't save him. Kate looked down at her shaky hand and formed a fist, signifying change. No, she couldn't tell them...so she would have to save him. She had to. She wanted to. Her eyes gazed back towards the island where, somewhere, Jack was missing. They were close now, so close Kate could make out details of the sand: wet, muddy grains mounded together even as the sun healed the earth. They were so close now...and so were the footprints.

Kate stood up, leaning further over the sailboat for a clearer look. Two sets of footprints leading into the jungle from a canoe that rested on shore. Footprints that told so many possibilities of stories: two friends, or lovers, who had gone out for a day on the ocean; someone in need of an escape, feeling lost, only to come back and find someone who cared; or someone who needed to escape because they were being held captive, and someone managed to falter their escape plans. Jack...

"Jack," breath uneasily gasped the name, a whisper in the ocean's breeze. She could feel Desmond's eyes watching her. She could feel the island glaring at her, trees narrowing in cold disapproval. We're hiding him, the trees spoke. But Kate felt differently. I'll find him, she answered.

----

Jack sat at one of the desk, head rested on his arms, staring at the x-rays. The light from the board stung his eyes, but he refused to close them. He had to stay focused...he could sleep later. Though he was so tired...

He stood up. He had to wake up. He had to think of a plan. A chair already sat by the windows where he'd previously tried to break the glass, only to resort to exhaustion when the window never budged. How else did you get out of a locked classroom? He turned towards the ceiling, looking for loose tiles. It shouldn't have been too hard, he thought, with the entire building falling apart. But the ceiling looked firm. Unwilling to let this discouraged him, Jack looked around the classroom, noting every aspect of it. Every scratch on the wall, crack in the floor. But, in the end, he knew the only way out would be with a key. Or a spare key...maybe one hidden underneath a desk. Familiar anticipation came back to surface inside him, increasing with every step he took towards the desk. Jack broke out into a run, grasping the wood to catch himself. With a hand he felt underneath the desktop, but found nothing except rough, splintering, wood. He fell to the floor, determined not to fail. He looked under the desk, eyes wide with hope...but foreshadowing disappointment crept through, and once again Jack found no key. He slid away from the desk, landing with his back against the wall.

The floor stared back at him as he gazed at it, knowing he could be angry at no one but himself. All the times he hesitated, every time he was afraid. The rest of his life would be spent in a series of traps, locked in room after room. A cage, an empty room, a classroom. All of it meant the same thing. No freedom. No identity. Belonging to these people he didn't know, this terrifically evil people. Always trying to escape and always finding out he would remain trapped. Never seeing his family or friends again. Never finding out if Kate was all right.

No. He didn't want that to happen. And as soon as he accepted this was his life, as soon as he gave up he was nothing. Getting to his feet, Jack already began to think of more ideas. Anything.

Only the file stared back at him. He had already decided not to read it, and he wasn't planning on breaking his vow. But that was before he noticed the name on the label: Katherine Austen. Her file. Answers he had always wanted. As easy as peaking at the first pages, as easy as reading. As easy as breaking their trust, because he agreed to let her tell him what she wanted, when she wanted. And trust was important. And her past...her past clearly disturbed her, shaking her into nightmares, haunting every thought. These people were ready to showcase her secrets to him, had researched everything she so desperately wished to keep secret. Protective instincts kicked in, anger kicked in. Jack picked up the file and tore it to pieces. Cries of rage escaped him as he ripped apart the outer over, tearing through the material and secrets of Kate's past. He even closed his eyes as to not accidently notice any detail. He threw the pages everywhere as he tore them, tiny pieces of the past becoming shreds of paper on the floor. Words cut apart, memories sliced in half. Meaningless to anyone wishing to so rudely intrude on a person's history. He tore the pages apart until the last shred left his hands and collapsed over onto the desk in relief. He cried. Face buried into his arms, sobs muffled from wondering ears of the living and unseen, Jack gave in. Everything these people had done to them, every game they created, knowing it would work. The pain, physical and mental they had been forced to endure. What was once a promise of friendship, a comfort amongst the original tragedy turned into separation, disappearances; the serene island that had once begged for their forgiveness now revealing its true personality. Or perhaps, still begging for forgiveness, having suffered as they had, changed and experimented on by the people who took over the once beautiful land. He finally allowed emotion to be released, to no longer have to suffer...because there had to be some sort of relief.

----

Kate stared down at the inflatable raft below her, ready to lower herself into it. She hadn't spoken since discovering the footsteps, only memorizing their patterns in her minds and keeping her worries to herself, certain that if she did they would not become real.

"Ready?" Desmond asked her, quiet and respectful. It amazed her how, on this island of such evil, a few good people could be found...people she had met before and either hurt, or they hurt her. And she was grateful, and she hoped her judgment wasn't untrustworthy.

She nodded and turned, allowing Desmond to hold her arms as she climbed down.

"Okay," she whispered.

He let her go and she fell into the raft, bouncing just enough into the air to make her heart skip a beat. Then she was ready to drift to shore. Eyes trailing upwards, she fixed them upon the footsteps, the two mysterious trails that were her hope of finding Jack. Taking a deep breath she took hold of the two oars and began to row the raft to shore. Not as slowly as she should have. She began to panic, began to speed, surely disobeying the ocean's traffic laws, as waves crashed against the raft in angry protest. But she was becoming so close...

As soon as the raft left the tide, its narrow mouth burrowing into the sand, Kate leapt onto land. Breath leaving her in a gasp, she only took a moment to recover from the journey before carefully following the footsteps into the jungle. At first the ocean's waves and cool air left a comfortable breeze, but each step took her further away from that potentially peaceful atmosphere: the beach that was hardly ten feet in length, coming to an abrupt stop at dark, shady waters. Jungle trees sticking out every which way, making her dodge their path as she tried to follow Jack's trail. Soon the air felt warm again, not helping her dry throat, the panicked feeling with every breath. The footsteps crossed over rocks, stumbled into mud, sped up and lingered behind whom they were following. She searched the ground desperately for more clues, wondering if every torn leaf or tiny broken tree limb was a trail. As the footprints took her further into the jungle the two- Jack and someone else- had begun to walk side by side. Her pace quickened as theirs did; the footprints took smaller, more hurried steps. They skipped through mud without thought, and she worried that Jack wasn't capable of taking this journey...he should be weak, mentally and physically by now...she didn't blame him, but it was reality. She also wondered about the canoe. Was Jack almost able to save himself? Why did he fail? Where was he being taken?

Just as the jungle began to thicken it came to a demise; more sunlight warmed the earth and illuminated the path. The jungle floor became rougher, more dead. Grass appeared, baking in the sun in a dying colors of pale green and yellow, overtaken by drying mud. She was entering a clearing. The footsteps soon came to a stop; she did too. Kate looked up, her heart beating anxiously as an answer came into view as an old, abandoned building.

----

His hands shook as they clung to the sides of the desk, trembling in weakness. Feeling drained, hungry, and dehydrated, standing was becoming a difficult task. He wanted to lay down, but he didn't want Ben to come in, smiling, knowing Jack would agree out of helplessness. His head ached in effort of formulating plans, finding loopholes in Ben's deal. He was only just recovering from his breakdown, when the idea of escape became too much...he was intensely aware of his surroundings, of the aging building suffering just as much as he from the visit, and the thick air, dangerously uncomfortable and warm. He listened and he could almost hear footsteps sliding down the hall, hand ready to open the door and Ben ready to demand an answer. Or a call, a warning. Someone shouting his name...

Lifting his head, his eyes found the door, glaring exhaustedly at the entrance. He had no plan, no helpful idea at all. Again his name was called, but this time...it was more of a cry. A shrill, a desperate, unafraid, effort for reply. And it wasn't Ben. At first he was certain it wasn't real...it was a ghost, taunting his anxiety, a trick of the mind. But then the cry came louder, nearer. With a sudden burst of energy Jack approached the door.

"Kate?"

He was certain it was her. He didn't know how, but it was...he shouted her name again, and his name came in reply. Anxious footsteps hurried in his direction; shadows danced beneath the door where Kate stood, just opposite of him, on the other side. He held his hand to the door and he knew she did too, in hopes of the barrier simply disappearing. But it didn't, and Jack placed his hand on the doorknob, closing his eyes and hoping, despite that it would prove his stupidity, the door would open. He turned the knob, but a painful creaking protested his departure.

"The door's locked," Jack told her.

He felt betrayed as hope disappointed him. Letting his eyes closed, Jack pleaded for another way out. When they open, he saw the doorknob twist slightly, crying out in anger as Kate successfully broke its hold. Stepping back, Jack watched, eyes full of regained hope, as the door was pushed open. He stared at Kate, dried, hidden tears on her face, exhausted but smiling.

"Not from the outside," she whispered.

A smile spread across his face, hesitant at first...hope had betrayed him so many times. But Kate, confident- or maybe in need of the same reassurance- step forward, careful and cautious at first, but then ignored the fragile situation, throwing her arms around him. Accepting the embrace, Jack wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she began to cry. Even after every horrible event on the island, Jack seemed to always take safety, friendship, freedom, for granted...he swore he never would again. To have someone he could trust, someone who was on his side, was a part of life he had always been grateful for, and was so relieved to have again...and then again, that had never really left. She had come looking for him, risking her own life and freedom for him. Standing here, holding her as tears streamed down her face, seemed little in comparison to what he owed her. So now he had to make sure they got back...he had to keep them safe.

"We should go," he said quietly. She nodded, slowly letting go. He stood there, letting her wipe the tears away, anxious to get off the island, but knowing what she deserved. He hoped she wouldn't ask about the paper thrown about the floor...torn slips of her past he'd been pressured to dive into. He would never tell her, and he was more relieved than ever that he hadn't given into the opportunity.

"Okay," she agreed, voice soft as tears faded away.

She led him into the hall, out of the room, and he never looked back. He tried not to give thought to where Ben was, hoping his belated presence was a good sign. Kate didn't ask questions, didn't speak, as they exited the building, as though the most silent of whispers would ruin the chance of escape. He mocked her silence, and was secretly grateful that she, so far, didn't ask about his experience. More than anything, he was ashamed he'd even let himself fall into this trap. He hated himself for trusting Ethan, for pitying him, admittedly more than halfway believing his story. And now, at that realization, Jack knew that he and Kate were truly alone. They would have to fight for themselves, protect themselves, and their alliance would be more vital than ever. He was willing to accept all of this as they stepped into the sun, leaving the dark dwelling behind them. He just wanted to be away from here.

Bright rays blinded him momentarily before innocently shying away. But as they walked across the yard, Jack realized he didn't know where Kate was leading him...he didn't know if she knew about the second island. He didn't want to be the one to tell her...but at least he could without revealing some evil agenda.

"Kate..." he began, trailing off at loss for words. He felt like they'd been separated for years, like he hardly knew her and the way she would react. They were completely different now, as always after the island's dangerous adventure pealed back another layer of fear. And so the knife would cut until their innermost hidden emotions and personality would be revealed. She'd already led them into the jungle, and Jack remembered the ocean not being too far away. He was nervous, feeling as though he were about to take away her hope, like the optimism in her would fall apart if he admitted the truth.

But sudden, quick, footsteps denied him the chance to tell the truth, and fear blinked within the terror of her eyes. Their own footsteps stopped, though part of Jack wanted to simply run away. He wondered why Kate stopped, if she was so afraid to see the opportunity to run. There was no opportunity. Jack saw Ethan tearing through the jungle only for a split second before he was knocked backwards, his own arm forced behind his back as he fell. His arm, his left arm, landed, crushed between his back and the sharp bark of a tree. Pain burst within him along with a loud, shrilling crack. He could feel his hand being twisted...someone was trying to break his wrist. His eyes were already closed tightly, holding in the pain as he tried not to scream. He tried to defend himself and kick upward, but a strong weight was holding him down. He felt himself being pushed further into the ground, his skin being broken by the bark of the tree and jungle floor. Breathing became difficult, but he still fought to defend himself. He couldn't. His eyes were closed and he was grateful: tears of pain were seeping through his eyelids, uninterrupted.

Finally he felt the weight leave him. He kicked upward, but his foot only met air. Confused, Jack opened his eyes. Through blurred, wet, vision, he saw that Kate was on top of Ethan, fighting him. He watched as her foot slammed against Ethan's face; she was actually succeeding. The entire moment seemed surreal. He tried to move but a numb feeling had already taken over him. His left arm felt multiple times its normal weight. His head pounded and his heart was racing in shock. Jack closed his eyes again.

"It's okay," he heard Kate tell him. She sounded shaken. He opened his eyes and noticed Ethan lying on the ground nearby, unconscious. "Come on."

She helped him stand, but when he got to his feet Jack felt even more dazed. He was hardly conscious of his surroundings as she helped him run into the jungle; he only became dizzy as he watched them pass trees, his arm throbbing in pain. He felt sick, but Kate kept running, and he didn't want to argue. He didn't want to stay on this island longer than he had to. He remembered he still had to tell Kate about the second island, but his head was pounding...he would have to pull himself together if they were going to make it back to camp.

"Okay, we're almost there," Kate assured him.

As he watched his feet fleeing through the jungle, he noticed the trail was becoming sand. He looked up, and saw they were at the ocean; but Kate didn't seem shocked or dishearten. She only kept leading him towards the water. He was confused: he saw the canoe was beside them, but Kate didn't notice. He realized she was helping him climb into a raft. He didn't ask as he sat down, grateful for the rest. Kate was already grabbing one of the oars, and he reached for the other.

"No," she protested, shoving his right arm- his good arm- away. She didn't give him time to argue as she grabbed the oar.

Jack looked behind them, towards the other island. Were they going to row in this inflatable raft all the way to camp? It was possible, but not probable. But then he realized what Kate was really headed towards: a sailboat, resting nearby.

"Where'd you get a sailboat?" He asked. He was surprised to have a voice, though his question came weak, his throat dry.

"I'll explain later," Kate said, "just please...trust him."

Suddenly he felt aware of everything again. Trust who? Eyes narrowing, dark and curious, Jack found his reason to ration hope. He tried to read Kate's expression: her face determined, yet full of sorrow, fear emerging as her eyes blinked and tears were restrained. He feared this was a trap...that she was being forced to lead him somewhere even more dangerous than before. But he could not find a question to ask. He wanted to ask if she was okay or what was wrong, but he remained silent. He was trusting her.

She stopped the raft just below the sailboat: a giant vessel named _Elizabeth_. It's size was probably only a manifestation of hope that dared to surface, the fact that he was actually about to board a boat. Was this rescue? Had Kate found help? Or was this Their doing?

Kate pounded her fist against the side of the boat twice, then a pause, then two more times. A hatch opened somewhere within the sailboat.

"Help him," Kate instructed to someone he couldn't see. "Be careful...he hurt his arm."

Two arms appeared over the edge of the boat, and Jack looked up. He stopped. He knew the man on the boat. Though they had only met once, Jack remembered him clearly as the man from the stadium that day, the one who told him to believe in miracles. His appearance was completely different. His hair was longer. Scars scratched his skin and face. He didn't look like the same person who had helped him that day, when he hurt his ankle...he looked like someone who had seen dozens of years of battles since then. The most shocking part, though, was here was the same man, offering to help him again.

"Come on," his familiar Scottish accent urged.

Overwhelmed by confusion Jack let the man help him into the boat. Once on deck, Jack glanced around, examining the sailboat, looking for a reason to be cautious. But the boat looked normal, and Kate didn't look intimidated at all once she was on the deck.

"This is Desmond," Kate told him.

Jack turned, meeting the man's eyes, offering his recognition.

"I know," he said.

Desmond didn't respond; Jack couldn't be sure if he remembered him or not. How could Jack have not recognized him? The story was coming back to him. A member of a race around the world missing at sea. His girlfriend, Penelope Widmore, sponsoring a search for him. That was three years ago. He remembered feeling dazed after he heard, leaving others confused and without explanation.

"I need to help him," he heard Kate tell Desmond.

"I'm fine," he protested. He wanted to ask questions, he wanted to know what was going on.

"Don't," Kate said, staring at him, pleading the same with her eyes. But she didn't understand...he didn't know what was happening or going to happen for the past few days...he needed answers. Desmond glanced between them but didn't interfere. "Just...let me help you."

Jack looked to Desmond, who shrugged. He sighed and followed Kate as she opened a hatch that led to a lower deck. They disappeared down the narrow steps, Jack finding trouble balancing, right hand constantly holding his left arm. Below deck was more cluttered than above; it was a small living space, complete with a cot and shelves, each nailed to the floor. Books and newspapers were spread across the floor, swimming over floorboards with every rocking of the ship. The cot sat against the far wall, beside it a tall bookshelf. Jack sat on the cot, placing his back against the shelf. He watched as Kate opened a backpack, her own, he saw. She took out a bottle of water and handed it to him.

"Here," she offered. He took the water without protest, grateful. The cool liquid slid down his throat, and immediately he felt weakness leave him. "I'm sorry we don't have any ice." He didn't complain, capping the now half-empty bottle of water. As he tried to he found his left hand was nearly stiff. Kate approached him with a wet cloth, placing it on his wrist. Then she took the pillow from the cot, placing it underneath his arm.

For the first time he examined his injured arm. Shades of black and blue painted already scarred skin. The bones of his wrist were dangerously visible through his skin, but he didn't think they were completely broken. He shivered as the cool water soaked the injury.

"I thought you were the doctor," Kate teased.

"Yeah, well I didn't ask for this," Jack said. He sighed again, closing his eyes momentarily. Back home, he hardly ever got hurt. His pain was only emotional, his bad experiences coming from broken hearts and disappointments. He healed people who went through traumas like he was being forced through now.

He opened his eyes and Kate was gazing at him sympathetically.

"Is it broken?" She asked.

"I don't think so," he replied.

He wished they would talk about something else. The pain was unbelievably strong, and Jack didn't want to be reminded of it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Kate asked the question so delicately, so softly, that it made him feel small, like he really was someone constantly in need of care. And he knew what she meant. He was flattered that she cared...in fact, he wasn't sure how to react. He couldn't just tell her what happened...it seemed too...odd. Then he realized what he hadn't asked her, the most important question. He didn't know if she would tell the truth, he hoped she would, but the subject needed to be confronted.

"Did they hurt you?"

He looked at her, because he feared what her answer maybe, whether truth or lie. Because if she lied, or before she told him, he could catch the truth in her eyes. To not react would be to remain still, solemn, meeting his eyes and convincing him that she was okay. She didn't. She glanced down, gazing to the floor, and then glanced back to him, as though he may not have noticed. But he did. Anger once again was unleashed within him. Putting him through all that was one thing but Kate...what did she have to do with anything? Why couldn't the just have left her out of it...in his head everything could have gone so safely. They could have just asked Jack to do the surgery. Explain everything. The mind games, the violence, the captivity...it all seemed so useless. The fact that Kate was put through the same because of him not only made him angry, but self-hatred burst into mind as well. He couldn't help it.

"No," she said, fighting to find confidence. She was lying...he knew she was. Besides the reaction and emotional signs, Jack could see the lie on her: a faded scar and bruises on face, telling him that she had been mistreated. He suspected she may lie...he had seen it in patience before: lying made it seem like nothing happened. Lying hid feeling ashamed or afraid. All he could do was let her know that he was there...if something did happen, she could be honest. Their eyes met, and he tried to tell her this. He wanted her to know this because he was getting that reaction from her...if he wanted to, he knew he could tell her everything. And maybe he was setting a bad example, she was only lying because he was. She felt that if he could be strong, so could she...when really, he knew they were both ready to confess. They were just confused, angry. They pitied themselves and each other. He wished they could be honest, that they could talk because he knew, once again, he was taking their friendship for granted- and he hated that. But he didn't know if they- if he- was ready.

For one, there was the issue of rescue. What would she think if she knew he turned the opportunity down? That all he had to do was a simple surgery and he could have left? That was the other issue...Kate didn't seem to be a part of the agreement. Because of that, he was relieved he turned the deal down. How would he have dealt with rescue, knowing Kate still lived on the island- free or not- with all this danger? He couldn't of...And what would she have thought if he left her, just like that? No, they had to be a team...their survival would depend on it. At least for Jack. Because he realized, Kate was used to being on her own. She was the one who saved him from the Others. Maybe she was capable of living completely dependent from him...but even that wouldn't save her from getting into dangerous situations in the first place. Unless all of this was his fault. And most of the time it had been. Rousseau. Ethan. Everything...

He looked away, guilty. Then he deserved the consequences: the torture, the broken bones. He didn't deserve her sympathy or understanding. Maybe that was why she wasn't talking. Maybe she blamed him...and she should.

"I'm sorry this happened," she said.

"Don't apologize," he said, "I shouldn't have kissed you...I shouldn't have let them know we were that close."

"Jack, what-"

He realized what happened, what the Others had done. Why Kate needed to be there...they were using her, knowing that as long as her life was at risk, as long as he didn't know of her fate, he might obey them.

"This is my fault, okay?" He snapped. He didn't want to sound angry with her, but his anger towards himself was so severe his plan was faltered. She looked at him, stunned and confused. "I'm sorry this happened. Just...leave and maybe I won't put you in any more danger."

"I'm not going to leave you, Jack," Kate said, sounding disturbed by the suggestion, "this isn't your fault. Where would even get the idea-"

"It just is!" Jack exclaimed. His arm was still hurting so badly...why was everything falling apart like this? Now this alliance with Kate...it didn't even make sense. He was the curse.

"I'm not leaving you," she said again. He realized how close to her she was now, almost as though she wanted to kiss him. Jack turned away, shaking his head.

"I can't do this," he said, feeling as though he may cry or scream but he just looked away, hiding his frustration. He didn't know how she interpreted the comment, he knew how he did, but she sat back, on her knees. She really wasn't wasn't going to leave. Fine. He wasn't going to talk anymore. Not until she agreed with him, or not until he found away around this...another escape, another loophole. Something to make this Their fault, or something to make everything just...okay.

"Why do you think this is your fault?" She asked him, reassuringly. She reminded him of Julia, and Jack smiled a little.

"You're talking to me like I'm a child," he teased.

"You're acting like one," Kate replied. Then she looked down, guilty. Jack didn't take no real offense, the comment even made a little sense. He smiled sadly, realizing this. "Sorry...I shouldn't have said that."

"No," he said, "it's just...that's how it seems. Everything's always my fault."

She stared at him, studying him. Talking wasn't so bad...but explaining everything...though he yearned for that feeling of emptiness, of having no troubles or burdens, he found himself hesitant, but more vulnerable than ever to confessing.

"Did you ask for the plane to crash?" She inquired, her tone suggesting the answer she was looking for, the one she knew was true. He did as well.

"No," Jack admitted.

"Then it's not your fault."

She smiled, encouraging her philosophy. Jack even considered it. The big idea, them being here, trapped on this island, no, maybe that wasn't his fault. He hadn't been prepared for this. He didn't know what to do, where to go. Trust was becoming such a risky offer that he practically felt the need to take a vow of silence. Again they were in alliance. He could almost live with this thinking, allowing only instinctive guilt to haunt him...for now, at least, he could never be sure of the days and nights to come.

"I just want to get back to camp," Jack confessed.

He was only just realizing what Kate was about to point out.

"We can't go back to camp," she said hurriedly, fearful that he had just realized this. But he understood, though not willingly. The Others knew where they had been living. The one place he wanted to be on this island...he was desperate to get back to the beach. To see Vincent, who he was concerned about, and live by the ocean. He realized Kate's disliking of living in the closed quarters of the caves. He wanted to feel like he wasn't locked up, to be able to walk without running into a wall or barrier. He was at least pleased to see that Kate seemed to have already come to terms with this. No beach would be safe for them. No where would be...so where would they go?

"Where is he taking us?" Jack asked.

They would turn into Rousseau, resorting to hidden dwellings beneath the ground. Hiding fear and acting strong. That had to be how Rousseau survived all these years.

"Maybe you should see for yourself," Kate said.

He didn't interrogate her. Part of him wanted to but the other part, after what he had seen on this island, was afraid to even consider what she might have meant.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, and thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	20. Fate

On An Island

Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty:** Fate

The only sound was the soft lapping of the waves as the boat sailed towards the island and of their memories, playing in each of their minds and guiding them through the next step in their lives. Jack knew that was what he relied on to make decisions, memories ruled his subconscious mind. The memories were telling him to be cautious and alert, and he was becoming widely aware of his surroundings and future as he considered where Desmond could be taking them. He considered each possibility and anything that could be going on. Though they remained inside the dark lower deck of the sailboat, surrounded by furniture that was nailed to the ground and signs of their former lives- books and newspapers- he was already back on the island. He didn't need another trauma to tell them there needed to be a change in his lifestyle, and what he was doing was planning his future, right then and there. He knew he was a different person, had to be, who couldn't trust anyone...his natural sympathy towards others had to change. His past and present had to become two different time periods: life operated differently on the island.

But what troubled him, cowering amongst his thoughts, was the question whose answer he feared the most: would he be like this forever? Even if they got rescued, would he still be this paranoid, unsympathetic person? Living quietly in the shadows, never offering trust or a hint of what was going on in his mind. If past and present could separate, could past and future? Everything they'd been through...could there really be a world where none of it would matter? Where they could move on? He glanced towards Kate. She sat staring at the ground, eyes fixed on the floorboards of the sailboat. He wondered if she was thinking of the same things as he: their future and what their life would be like now. Or maybe not. After all, she seemed to trust Desmond. That's what bothered him. If he didn't know Desmond from his past, he wouldn't have trusted him. He wasn't sure if he did now. Three years...so much could change after three years. There was that Dharma suite he was wearing, and his sailboat worked fine. It bothered him that Kate seemed to so easily trust him and that it was so much easier for her to trust people.

"Do you trust him?" He asked. He had to know.

Kate looked up, confused as he shook her from her thoughts. Then her eyes traveled away from him, towards distractions that could hide her true answer. She didn't want him to know the truth.

"Kate, if there's anything going on..." a theory: that this could all be a trap, "you can tell me."

He lowered his voice and leaned closer towards her, encouraging her to tell the truth.

"If someone's making you do something or-"

"It's not like that," Kate replied, "I trust him."

There was no hesitation, only the reluctance to admit this to him. He sat back, his injured arm twitching in pain. Holding a hand to his arm, his mouth fell open in surprise at Kate's answer. Confusion.

"How can you?" Jack said. "After all we've been through, how can you trust anyone on this island?"

He didn't. He knew he didn't trust anyone- except Kate. Now even that seemed like a mistake. If she was going to use her trust so carelessly, if none of what happened affected her, then why should she be a part of his future? She would always disagree with him, always try to turn him away from his beliefs. She would say she was 'saving' him. Hearing her say she trusted Desmond made him feel alienated...like no one understood him.

"I trust you," Kate whispered, wounded by his accusation. She stared at him, as though wondering the exact opposite: how could he not trust anyone? "You can't live like this, Jack. You can't not trust anyone...what about when we get rescued? If you can never trust anyone...you're making living on this island more difficult than it should be."

"It is difficult," Jack said, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. It was too difficult. It was like he had died in the crash and had been sent to his own personal Hell. Only, Kate was there. Maybe there to save him, if he let her. But he couldn't do this. He had changed.

"You can't let this effect you," Kate said, determination as well as comfort in her voice. His eyes remained closed as he listened to her words, wondering if he could ever follow her suggestions. "You've got to move on or you'll just-"

"Fail?" Jack said, abruptly and brutally cutting her off. His eyes snapped open; he glared at the wall beside him. "I've heard this lecture before." How could he not recognize it, the words that were preached to him as a child? So much was expected of him at such a young age, when all he was looking for was an explanation. Reasons why people had to be so cold and why emotions could never be expressed, why life always had to move on. He still didn't understand.

"We just need to be able to move on," Kate said, a soft smile of sympathy on her face, "so we can survive this place."

"You act like you've been through this before," Jack commented. He didn't want to admit he was considering her philosophy. It made sense, to leave everything behind and move forward. It was even a nice dream, to be able to live without the burden of the past. But that didn't seem like a real possibility.

"I have," Kate stated, "we've been through a lot..."

He understood. They had been through a lot, and Kate must have learned by now how to deal with it all. Really, he was mostly angry. He hated that he had to deal with this, that all of this had happened to them. He didn't know how to deal with that anger. It only got in the way, coming to mind when he had to made a decision or every time he saw one of Them. Every time he tried to move on, he would only remember what they'd been through, and it would seem as though he was denying himself something. Like it was an offense to himself if he let go of the past.

"Do you think you're being punished?" Kate asked suddenly.

The idea was intriguing. He looked at her. There was a different light in her eyes, more of a darkness. A shadow of guilt, hesitation to bring up the question, but being anxious to ask. It was something that had bothered her for a long time.

"That everything that's happened...that we survived the crash," her eyes danced in a haunted gaze around him, "because we needed to be punished."

He stared at her, horrified. The theory made sense. Whatever crime Kate committed in the past, what he had done to his father. They were stranded here because they needed to be punished. So many horrible things had happened to them to teach them a lesson, and those horrible things would continue to happen.

"I don't know," Jack said, shaking his head. His eyes were wide, his voice and movements stiff. What a real possibility. Terrifically real. "I'm sure..." he swallowed. He wanted to comfort her, because he didn't want her to think that was true, that she needed to be punished. Everyone deserved a second change. Perhaps they had been foolish enough to believe that's why they were there. But the theory seemed too plausible. He felt sick, he was afraid. Some higher force was conducting their lives, writing the greatest horror story ever for them to suffer through. They couldn't fight it. They had already fallen victim; they were suffering and...it never stopped.

Momentarily he left his thoughts to notice Kate was looking at the ground. She looked up briefly, meeting his eyes. Tears were in them. She was just as afraid as he was. This suffering they had in common suddenly brought them so close together, to an unspoken understanding that they were the same. From the beginning, they were meant to find each other and suffer through these catastrophes. They had each other to save themselves, but was it useless? No matter what they did, would life always be this way?

"What did you do?" She whispered, tears in her eyes and voice so fragile and broken. "What did you do that was so bad..."

"I betrayed someone," he didn't hesitate to tell her; she would understood, "I thought I wasn't doing what was right..."

"I thought I was doing what was right too," she said.

Tears quenched a sad smile, falling gently over her lips and hugging her emotions; they comforted her. He felt moisture in his own eyes, his own desperate need to be comforted. They were alone now, two tainted souls that had to repay sins they never thought they would have to repay. They fixed what they thought needed to be fixed, but it was one wrong decision that would haunt both of their lives forever.

He wondered if he should hug her, reassure her that all hope wasn't lost, but he wondered if it would mean anything. For that moment they would be safe...it was them against the world. He contemplated the hug until the debate became violent. He trembled madly, his head shaking in small, sharp turns. Arguments shifted his mind until he drove himself to a helpless defeat. He felt his back hit the wall as he collapsed into a corner, hiding in the shadows from the evil of the world. They could hide here forever, letting themselves be arrested in the dim light of the lower deck of this ship, a twisted irony as they drifted through this world that hated them. A very twisted irony, because he wondered, what if they left? What would happen if they went home? Would they be allowed to? Would this evil follow them there?

"Why can't we go home?" He asked. To him the question brought light, a light bulb that should have turned on moments ago.

Kate looked at him, but her reaction wasn't what he'd hoped. Lines of sympathy curled into the bruises on her face, sadness had become trapped in her eyes.

"Because..." she bit her lip. New tears formed in her eyes. She couldn't tell him. That's how bad the reason was. She looked away, grimacing as she couldn't confess. Lips pursed together, tears blinking in her eyes. Eyes closing tightly but tears still slipping through. Eyes reopening, tears filling them as though she'd been staring at the rain. "Desmond won't...we hardly have any food or water. I can...I can talk to him."

But he wanted an explanation for her original reaction. The tears, the heartbreak at hearing the question asked. Was the thought of going home that much of a delicate topic?

"I can, I'll ask him." She stood up. Already hiding her tears. Wiping her eyes, quick breaths as she regained control of her emotions. Soon the moment would be forgotten. He recognized this moment. A time of shared emotions and confession, only to end abruptly and never be spoken of again, leaving him to wonder if she even remembered the conversation.

"Kate," he began, wishing she'd sit down. He didn't want the conversation to end. He wanted to figure out a solution...if going home was the answer or could be. That's what she was going to find out, but after spending so long trapped in this moment of confession he didn't feel ready to leave.

But she seemed desperate to leave, to forget. She ran from him. Again. Fleeing up the stairs, hiding her tears and ashamed of everything she had said to him she disappeared. He knew these moments too well, when the people he cared about opened up to him and he could open up to them. What he hated was, he'd have to wait for another moment like this for that to happen again.

----

She let the fresh air soothe her as she leaned against the railing of the ship, gazing down at the passing ocean below her. She watched, fascinated by boat's ability to float over the life underneath them and the fact that there was a life underneath them- a whole different world of problems. A school of fish fluttered by, basking in the current from the sailboat. Maybe there were no problems down there. The fish remained together, fighting the water that threatened to tear them apart. Tomorrow that same school of fish would be alive, together.

Her mind turned away from the fish. He was so willing to give up, so willing to become this being who revolved around the world, letting anything that effected him influence him. When she discovered her second chance Kate fought to let go of that quality, attempted to let go of her past. She didn't want to tell Jack that didn't work. But they could always try. She didn't want to live like this, she didn't want any more memories that would haunt her and send her bursting awake night after night, trembling in fear. Maybe Jack was right. They could go home, be free of this. Even if it would tear them apart running seemed like a nice idea: getting to be someone else, if she didn't like a place she could leave. That was how she dealt with these kind of experiences in the past, she ran. Ran so fast to attempt to leave the memories behind. It didn't work, he had to know it didn't work. But she had no other ideas, and they had to get away from this place, no matter what the reason was. It wasn't safe for them. They were powerless here; to survive they had to fight, and how long would their strength last?

"Can we go home?" Her voice sounding muffled against the ocean's breeze. She wondered if Desmond even heard her; she sounded so distant, as though she were talking to herself.

"Yes."

The reply came slowly, in pleasant realization and she knew he was smiling. Carefully she turned, preparing herself for disappointment. She had been imagining things, or there was some kind of catch. But Desmond was grinning, the wide smile shifting his face into a beam of relief and hope.

"I was just thinking," she began, "we're on a boat, why not just-"

"I know," Desmond said, "I want to go home."

Memories danced in his eyes as he smiled at the idea of being home, being back with those memories. She wondered how he had dealt with it, being trapped here with his past, stripped of his freedom and even his identity. He had been told to put on a uniform and press a button every 108 minutes. How had his mind survived, when so many memories must have lived inside?

"I told Jack we didn't have any food," she said. Unfortuently it was a valid point. "Hardly any water."

"Then we'll go back to the island," Desmond said, his lightened tone told her not to have any doubts, "we'll set sail tomorrow."

She stared at him. This was it. They could go home. They could move on without still worrying about the Others or the island. Suddenly it seemed unreal...they could just sail away.

"Okay," she said, disbelief unwinding a smile across her face, "I'll tell Jack."

Coming to the upper deck had been a means of escape to satisfy a desperate need to be away from the darkness and inescapable warmth of the lower deck. She had needed to run, because the moment became too vulnerable. She had actually broken down in front of them, had actually admitted her fears and hinted at her past, only a step away from telling the complete truth. Everything she had worked for, to shelter him from her past, would have been ruined. But now she race down the stairs and into the lower deck, soaring in grateful relief at the news she had to deliver.

The floor creaked beneath her as she stepped into the room, peaking ahead to see what she was walking into. Jack was on the cot, curled into a half-moon shape, turned towards her as to not lay on his injured arm. He was asleep. She let him sleep, he needed the rest, but she didn't leave. Carefully she walked towards where she had sat before, confessing her soul so openly, so possessed by emotion. She didn't sit in the exact same spot; she hadn't returned for that same reason. They had true hope now, they would be home soon.

She watched him as he slept, wondering what life was like where he would go back to. He would be a celebrity, meeting more people who cared about him than he could imagine. She wondered if he had ever exaggerated his past in order to connect with her, so she wouldn't feel alone amongst those who had a blessed lifestyle. But when she asked him what he had done, so suddenly stepping over the line that had been drawn between past and present, his reaction couldn't have been rehearsed. She might never know what triggered such a reaction, not unless she caught a glimpse of response on a newspaper headline. An article she wouldn't read. It would only be a sign that the island had followed him home. No matter how much they tried to run, she realized, they wouldn't be able to forget.

A familiar moist touched her eye as a tear shimmered there. They would never forget. They would never be able to forget each other or the world they left, they would only be trapped in this new world, one that wouldn't understand what they went through. Suddenly she dreaded rescue. She would have to leave him, and she would be alone too. Going home might be the furthest from moving on they would ever be. But she was afraid to break that to him, because he wanted to go home. He should be at home. Maybe if she never told him he would never realize this. Or maybe she was hurting him more than she ever had before.

She remembered the smile on Desmond's face at the idea of rescue. She thought of living on the island forever, hiding from the Others and remaining missing from the world that wanted to find them. Her for being a criminal, them because they had families and loved ones that missed them. Even if Jack claimed to be living this life alone, with no one who really cared about him, there had to be some that did. He had a career, and then there was Desmond's life, she didn't even know what kind of family and friends he had. If they stayed here, would they be able to move on? She closed her eyes. She saw her living with Jack on the island forever, having created a distant relationship that barely allowed them to talk to each other, so shaken by the past they struggled to live in the future. She saw him back home, going through the same thing alone, but he was safe there.

----

He struggled to emerge from sleep. Rest felt so relieving. But he knew he couldn't be gone for too long...Kate had yet to answer him. Were they going home? Questions plagued his mind as soon as his eyes fluttered open and he remembered where he was. No sunlight greeted him; he was in a room, but he could open the door. No longer being in captivity was like being able to breathe after holding your breath for so long. Though he wasn't entirely safe, could never be free from the dangers of the island, for that moment, when he woke up, he realized he was close enough to safety to feel safe.

He watched as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. Everything was so serene, so silent and sympathetic. His eyes landed on Kate and their last conversation rushed back to him. He was back in reality, where the world was literally against him. And her...it was the closest to a confession he had gotten with her. She betrayed someone too. He felt they could relate to each other more than ever. Him and Kate, two victims of fate's cruel game. They were here to suffer together, being together being the one sympathetic aspect of this game.

Kate twitched in her sleep, eyes contorting into pain as she shifted from dream to reality. Her arms reached out, grabbing for something- or someone- and then fell to the ground. He studied her as she awoke, considering how close fate was bringing them. So close they were almost as one, one force against fate. Their past would come together as their presents struggled against the binds confiding them to this Hell. He regretted that she was waking up, he realized. Go back to sleep, he wanted to tell her. Because at least there the nightmares weren't real.

But she was awake and staring at him, eyebrows curling in curiosity. He looked away; he was making her feel uncomfortable. She shifted from where she was sitting, he heard her stiff moments as she fully awoke from sleep. He wondered what he should say, if he should bring up their earlier conversation. Or should it be left to dwell in the misty heavens of previous conversation, waiting to be called upon when the time was ready? A lingering pain in his arm stung his skin, as though reminding him to make up his mind.

"Where are we going?" His face remained straight, but inside he winced. Why did that have to be the first thing he said? But it was another issue on his mind, one perhaps easier to bring to surface. "I want to know before we get there."

Her eyes fixed on him, she warned him. He didn't want to know, he should listen to her and wait. She didn't want to tell. But she understood his curiosity.

"When Desmond crashed here a man found him on the shore and took him to this place..." she stopped, her voice echoing as her rapid reply became calm, "they took him to a hatch."

"'Hatch'?" He repeated. He was confused, but not completely shocked. After all, earlier he had been held captive in an abandoned hospital. What struck him the most was the endless possibilities; it scared him.

"It's an apartment, Jack."

Her voice carried her words in a tone of disbelief, of amazed disbelief. Her face lit up in a child-like glow, like she just discovered a treasure map or the possibility of real magic. The island brought endless possibilities. It was no longer the empty land they'd crashed on, becoming a temporary home to keep them company at night. With the first appearance of the monster and every new person they found, it was rapidly becoming their own tale of adventure. They were two kids in a book or series, following an addicting journey the reader studied closely, wide eyed and in delight. But there was something those books failed to mention, because it was too risky to open the children reading to such a world: of terror and everything they felt during these adventures...dangerous emotions that would frighten away a child looking for a bedtime story. Nevertheless, the story was still being told. It wasn't being read, but lived.

"With food and water and..." she trailed off, smile still pulling at her face even in her stunned appearance. "It's only for one night."

His eyes widened and he understood her excitement. She smiled a little more, offering the smile to him.

"We're going home," she explained, her voice threatening to break as disbelief and happiness mixed as one, "we need to go back for food and water, but this time tomorrow...we might be home."

His eyes darted away, gazing at the wall he was leaning on. They might be home this time tomorrow. Back in his old life, safe. He could go back to work...

It was wishful thinking. He glared at the wall, dread making him feel sick. Kate's theory had sunk too far into his mind...no way were they going to be able to leave. Just like that. As much as he wanted to, something would stop them. But at the same time...he felt like trying. He wanted to fight fate, fight for the life he wanted. He felt excitement stir inside of him, and he thought of everything he was missing out on in the real world. Politics and movies and music. His career and hearing people at work talk about the story of their lives.

"Do you wanna get some air?" Kate asked him.

The room was becoming warm, choking them with a need to step out into the world. He nodded. He put one foot on the ground and then the other; his arm hurt but he ignored the pain. Tomorrow he might have a cast on it, the bones could heal safely. He stood with a little difficulty, his muscles awakening as he walked for the first time in hours. Kate stood as well, approaching him with an arm outstretched, as though she were going to help him walk.

"I'm fine," he said. He was. He could walk, he could deal with any pain thrown towards him with the thought of going on home in his mind.

A small smile accepted his words and they walked towards the stairs. The steps led them closer towards the horizon as Jack lifted the hatch enclosing the room. A purple sky greeted them as it came closer into view, yellow and pink clouds passing by, glancing towards them with weary smiles. The air was calm, cool against the warmth of the room. The ocean sent a misty breeze across the sailboat; particles of salt flew around their eyes as they smiled, greeting Desmond.

"She told you, then?" Desmond asked. He was guiding the boat, looking tired but determined to get them to land. He sailed with his body leaning lazily forward, sleep tempting him as the sky grew darker.

"Yeah," Jack said, "we're going home."

Desmond grinned.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words, brother." Desmond's hand slipped, but he quickly replaced it in attempts to hide his exhaustion.

"Will we make it back before nightfall?" Jack asked, glancing worriedly to Desmond and then to dim sky.

"Yes," Desmond said; he suddenly seemed to become overtaken with exhaustion. He stopped talking, his eyes dropped to a close and then reopened. The process repeated a few times.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked.

"Fine," Desmond said. He smiled. "Just thinking...tomorrow I'll wake up in a real room. No hatch. No island."

Kate and Jack shared smiles.

"I read about your disappearance," Jack said.

"You did?" Desmond said with a shy grin.

"I was shocked..." Jack said, he trailed off, remembering. "I was lost for a while."

"You were, then?" Desmond asked. He seemed flattered. "Glad to see someone so effected by a stranger's tragedy."

Jack frowned. When they first saw each other on the boat, after escaping from the island, Desmond hadn't seemed too surprised to see him. He never mentioned their previous meeting, but Jack assumed that was because he'd stayed hidden in the lower deck. But he almost felt betrayed. Desmond's disappearance really had effected him. Watching the news, seeing Desmond's girlfriend in constant tears and frantic to find him. Cameras sneaking into the Widmore's lives, watching them every step of the way as Penelope Widmore searched for her missing boyfriend. He watched night after night, following their lives as well, eyes glued to the screen, never willing to leave until Desmond was found. But Desmond didn't even remember him.

"How's your arm?" Desmond asked him.

Snapping away from his thoughts, Jack captured the opportunity. That day at the stadium Jack had fallen and hurt his ankle. He could still hear the snap of the bone...a familiar sound, as he had also heard it twice now on the island.

"It's okay," Jack said. His wrist had swollen, the bruises that highlighted his skin in thick colors of black and blue shining even as the world around them darkened. "It hurts, but tomorrow I should be in the hospital...I can get a cast and all, in case the bone broke."

"You seem hopeful," Desmond teased. But his smile faded, and he stared at Jack's arm. "Broken bones..."

His eyes trailed to Jack's, realization dawning inside them. Jack smiled a little, but if Desmond noticed the irony he didn't show it.

"It's you!" Desmond exclaimed quietly.

"What's going on?" Kate demanded, glancing between himself and Desmond.

"I know you..." Desmond went on, "that day, at the stadium." He grinned. "You were trying to out run me."

An embarrassed smile crossed Jack's face.

"I can run faster," Jack said, "I just...had a lot on my mind."

Desmond's grin disappeared. Both of them thought back to that day, to that time in their lives.

"The girl," Desmond said, sounding more serious, "how is she?"

"What's going on?" Kate stepped in front of Jack, demanding attention and explanation. Her hands sat on her hips as she stared at him, confused, trying to read his distant expression.

He didn't answer her. Sarah...she was...she was married. He knew that. Happy. In a life without him. After so much effort had been put in to safe her...he had been so determined to save her. After she and her fiance broke up, Jack stepped in to help. He hadn't meant for their feelings to develop into something deeper; he hadn't meant to force himself to be there for her...he thought he wanted to be there for her. He did want to be there for her. But after her shouting and accusations, she'd convinced him to begin blaming himself. It made sense...he thought.

"I met him before," Jack replied, throat dry. He swallowed; he felt sick. "I had this patient...it was a tough case, a lot of decisions. I went for a run, that Tour de Stade I told you about. Desmond was there. I tripped, hurt my ankle, and he helped me." He met Kate's eyes, and he realize he looked too terrified for her to believe that was the whole story. But that was all he was ready to tell her. "That's all you need to know."

Jack turned away, staring vacantly out to sea, the ocean around him transparent in his mind. He was back in 2001. Unmarried, just a surgeon. His life had changed so much...feuds with his father, Desmond disappearing, marrying Sarah, Sarah leaving him, his father not talking to him, his father dying. The plane crash, the island, meeting Kate. Meeting Desmond again. His quiet life of 2001...he had so little to worry about, only his job and traditional issues with his family. He yearned for that time, of the quiet tranquility of his life, when he could go back and fix his mistakes. He thought of living in an easier world, where he wouldn't bare the burden of the memories he had. The ocean continued to pass by him. The world continued to move and he still had the memories.

"Jack?" Kate said. She didn't sound angry, more calm and approachable.

" I just..." he stopped. Or maybe he wasn't ready to talk. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Kate said. Her eyes danced around him, encouraging him to open up to her. And he wanted to. But he wanted to seem like he had some strength...like every part of his life wasn't a failure. He didn't want to admit that.

"We're almost there," Desmond announced.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kate offer Desmond a smile, but she turned back to Jack, serious and concerned. But all at once, he didn't feel her staring at him. She disappeared. The ocean, the boat, all of it disappeared.

_He knocked on Gordy's door. Three, strong knocks managing to form from trembling hands. He stared at his fist and opened his hand. He wondered how well he'd do in a fight against these guys. The pain in his face answered him. He should be at home, or in a hospital...he would go, but now there was something he had to do. Something he had to do before he had a night to rest on the idea. Gordy opened the door._

_"You again," Gordy sighed, "unfortuently, you came back." He looked behind him, inside the dark house. "Look, one of the guys had to go home, the game's over, I'm going to bed so please do me a favor and go home."_

_"You need another guy?" Jack said. His voice was strong, but inside he was shaking. He hoped Gordy couldn't see through him as the man studied him, as if he qualified for the position._

_"You play poker?" Gordy asked._

_"Yeah," Jack replied._

_"You any good?"_

_"Yeah."_

_ Gordy sighed again and looked back inside the house, hesitant; Jack felt his inside freeze as he waited for a reply. His heart pounded loudly...mentally he told it to be quiet, to keep calm and he could get through this._

_ "Okay, come in."_

_He opened the door, and Jack stepped inside the house. Some guys were sitting on leather couches, a couple with beers in their hands, one shuffling a deck of cards in his hands, focusing on carefully shuffling the pack._

_"Game's back on," Gordy announced._

_The guys stared at them._

_"Him?" A man asked. Jack recognized him as the one who had answered the door earlier. His eyes were blood-shot, as though he had been up for too many hours._

_"Yeah," Gordy replied sharply, "him."_

_The man looked around at the others, who shrugged. They stood up, and Jack watched as they took their seats at the table. Jack waited a minute and then followed, taking the empty chair. Anxiety shook his nerves, he wondered if they could see how afraid he was. But if this was the only way he could help Sarah, then this is what he had to do. The man who had been shuffling the cards earlier shuffled them again before dealing them with grace; too quickly for Jack's liking. He felt as though he had just made the decision to play, and the game had already begun._

Suddenly he could feel Kate staring at him. There was so much to tell her. How he had a determination to help people, and how that determination had historically been possibly been mistaken for love. How he'd been raised to never fail and, to this day, made that one of his personal goals. Only, it was a goal he continuously failed to meet. It was so ironic it disgusted him. Helping her in any way always seemed so hypocritical to him, because he would sit there, saying these words when they didn't even apply to him. He wasn't as better than her as she may think.

"We're here," Desmond said.

He would never get a chance to tell her. Not now. Right now he had to come back to the real world, suffer for merely hours. Then he would be home.

----

Everything was so surreal. He was sitting on a couch. On an island. Above where he sat they had hiked, had fled from danger, had fallen into danger. Underneath was an apartment, a safety zone. With water, showers. Food. He hadn't seen food yet, but there was a rumor it was there. Now he was waiting for Kate, who was going to help him wrap his wrist in bandages. The hatch seemed to have an endless supply of medicine and supplies. Everything necessary to survive on an island.

"Okay," Kate's voice floating in the room. He felt the cushions shift as she sat down beside him.

She reached for his injured hand; he let her take it. Her fingers gently brushed his bruise skin, her hand carefully holding his, supporting the bone that actually felt weightless. Mouth ajar, focused on her task, Kate began to wrap his wrist. He watched as the bruises disappeared, laid to rest under the bandages. No one talked, he didn't move. He realized how easy it was to trust her; how easy it had always been. He would miss that, having someone to trust. Someone who cared...he wondered if his disappearance had changed the minds of those back home, those who had previously stopped talking to him or betrayed them. Kate wouldn't be there. The realization hit him hard. He'd always known that, that she'd have to run if they were rescued, but he never really considered it. He wanted nothing more than to be away from the island, but being away from her...he still hadn't sorted out his feelings yet. Was he in love? Or was he just so grateful for a friend the friendship had become deeper than he was used to?

"I need to ask you a favor," Kate said. Her voice was barely over a whisper. She was blinking away tears. His wrist was almost wrapped, already feeling like it could heal. But her tone...he began to panic. There was something she didn't want to tell him, something he didn't want to hear. "When we get back, tell them I died."

"What?" His stomach seemed to fall, his throat fell dry. His head spun with confusion and dread.

"Please, Jack," Kate said. She finished wrapping his wrist, but she still held onto his arm. "You have to tell them I died. Taking someone's identity, it's not fair. How would you explain that to them? Please...you have to tell them."

"Okay."

He looked up, surprised at his reply. His eyes met her. She stared, because she had expected a fight, an argument ending in tears. But he didn't want that. This could be one of their last conversation. She made sense...he wanted to do what he could for her. She offered him a smile, but tears were winning her over.

"I'll miss you," she whispered, voice breaking. He swallowed, his own emotions overwhelming him. He never had to say a good- bye before. He had either been left or the person had passed away. His last conversations had always been full of anger, harsh words and tears. He didn't know how to say good-bye.

"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice soft and trembling. Suddenly they were leaning closer towards each other, he found his eyes nearly inches from hers, her lips on the verge of kissing him. He could feel her breath, skipping in soft beats as she fought away tears, her wanting to kiss him one last time...but this time she had no choice, she would have to run. He pulled away. The movement was sharp, cold. He looked away, then looked back, down to the bandages on his hand. "If we get rescued...we'll never see each other again."

Biting her lip she nodded. She closed her eyes; tears were falling from them and he watched as each teardrop fell through her closed eyelids, landing on her face and sinking towards her chin. He didn't know what to say...how to say good-bye.

She stood.

"We should get some sleep," she said. Her eyes were wet. Her voice fought to come above a whisper.

He stood.

"Take the couch," he offered, "there's a chair in that room...with the albums."

She nodded; neither had the strength to fight. He stepped away as she sat down again, eyes to the floor, avoiding the truth and the final good-bye the would have to say.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

They could say good-bye tomorrow.

----

Those moments before waking up were so curious, how afterwards, after being woken, it felt as if you knew your eyes were opening. Or someone was waking you up.

Someone was shaking him. A voice called his name. Jack stared at the darkness as he rose from his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to figure out what was going on. At last he opened his eyes, a dim light greeting him, someone standing in front of him. Kate. She looked afraid, shocked.

"Desmond's gone."

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	21. Hope

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-One

**Chapter Twenty-One: **Hope

He could hear Kate chasing after him as they tore through the jungle, ripping through the fresh air and forest and feeling slightly unwanted. Being outside was a risk, but Jack had to stop him. The ground disappeared beneath him as he raced through the jungle, and Jack remembered that day at the stadium; he admitted that he had been consciously hoping to prove himself the better athlete than Desmond, and now he found himself playing the same game. But an empty shore and innocent ocean greeted them when he reached where the sailboat should be. He stopped, stunned with rage and denial, still staring at the empty ocean in silence when Kate came to a stop behind him.

"Jack," she began, voicing the concern he knew she would have. She must know, by now, how he reacted to these kinds of situations, how he hated being betrayed and disappointed, hated losing hope over and over again. He ignored her and took off down the beach, away from the jungle. He didn't know exactly what he was planning...the most logical idea he had was to find the sailboat, swim to it, climb aboard, attack Desmond, take control of the boat, go home...

The island could conjure cruelty like no other place he had been. To dangle rescue so closely to them, for hope to not tempt them, but provide evidence that lifted their spirits, their hope, and then it all was taken away...he_ hated_ it. He hated this island and the madness that controlled its victims, and he wished for nothing more to destroy it. And to do that, he would have to catch up with the boat. He would have to beat fate, or whatever authority was mistreating them.

Wind built up around him like a barrier, making it more difficult to run the faster he went. It even caused pain: it felt like the bones in his injured wrist had been strung in mid-air, gravity pulling down on them as hard as possible. But still he ran, ignoring the pain, ignoring the sound of Kate's footsteps catching up to him. She was fast, but he was faster. He was making himself out to be a good fugitive, he thought, the role fell into him naturally.

But he couldn't find the sailboat. He was far away from where he'd appeared from the jungle, and the sailboat was no where in sight. Desmond could have left hours ago, he thought miserably. Jack finally began to slow down, only to retreat away from the shore, stumbling backwards with a hand over his eyes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of the sailboat. Nothing but endless sea stood in his realm of vision.

"I'm sorry," Kate said. He wondered if the words remained close to her conscious, ready to be pulled instantly after so much experience. He did not accept her sympathy, but instead revealed his own feelings that were ready to surface.

"I'll kill him!" Jack exclaimed, punching the air and appearing as though he were fighting oxygen.

"Jack," Kate said, sympathy remaining steady. She reached out for him, but he jerked away, stumbling further from the sea.

"I'll kill him!"

He wasn't subconsciously making plans to murder Desmond, he was really only looking for a way to release his anger. He didn't feel as though he should continue to hold back. He wasn't even really mad at Desmond, because he sensed something greater was at play: the force that was keeping them on the island. Someone else was getting to go home...he should be on that boat...

"Don't talk like that!" Kate said, desperately searching for a way to calm him down.

But his anger was too much. Rage turned his skin a furious blood-red as his mind exploded with thoughts of anger. The roaring feeling of hatred felt so alive within him, so alive that Jack really felt like he could do something about it. Revenge...the word whirled into his conscious like it was trapped on a rapid river, and it had just found a way to shore.

"We need to get back."

Now he sensed something else in Kate's voice, a fear so undetectable that he wasn't sure if it was for him or something else. That didn't matter now. What mattered now was that he stood here, on this shore, free from the captors who had so desperately tried to capture his mind and manipulate him to answer their wishes. He felt as though he stood here for a purpose. Revenge...

"Jack!"

His name bounced off the waves crashing in front of him like a shrill echoing from a mountain. The ocean appeared so angry, so less innocent than before, as though to answer his thoughts. The sea understood, the sea agreed with him.

"They'll be looking for us!" Kate said.

The fragile hope left within him said that no, they would be searching the other island. Unless Ethan saw the sailboat...had the canoe been left behind? Thoughts of their safety calmed his anger. Jack felt his breathing slow to a normal pace, his mind seemed to deflate to a healthier level of thought. However, the relief was only momentary and suddenly concern was taking anger's place. But he didn't want to quit thinking about revenge. Thinking about fighting back, fighting for everything him and Kate had been through, brought Jack a sense of dignity that had felt missing before. He could control their futures, he could fight back. Those thoughts would simply have to wait, just a little longer.

----

Kate entered the hatch with perhaps more excitement than he at the thought of being somewhere safe. Either she felt as though he shouldn't hear her opinions or maybe she really didn't have any, but she hadn't spoken to him since he agreed to go back to the hatch. From the moment she burst through the door Kate headed straight for the room furthest from them, and Jack suddenly understood.

"This is why you wanted to come back?" Jack announced, furious: she returned to press the button, not for fear of their safety.

"Every 108 minutes," Kate reminded him, she was already beginning to type in the numbers, "or else-"

He rushed forward, grabbing her hand. The number 16 lingered on the screen, blinking at them as it waited for its companions. Her eyes turned cold at the sight of his hand on her arm and then her look softened into something more like hurt as she looked up at him.

"Or else what?" He demanded, a hint of disgust in his voice; he already didn't believe whatever story she had, because it just couldn't be true.

"Or else the world ends," Kate replied, jerking her arm away from his. As his fingers left her and Jack was left clutching empty air, a reminder that he was going a little too far with his anger, she turned away from him, brushing off the previous moment. Blowing hair away from her eyes with a frustrated sigh, Kate's hands fell again to the keyboard.

"You really believe this?" Jack said, watching Kate as the numbers 23 and 42 appeared in the corners of his eyes. "That something will happen if you don't push this button?"

"I don't think Desmond would have been down here for who knows how long and pushed this button for no reason," Kate replied, glancing towards Jack, acting as though she was offended by his question, "so, yeah, I believe it."

Jack stared at her in disbelief, not necessarily because of her beliefs, but at her willingness to oblige with such a task. Did she hate the island as much as he did? And how did this computer save the world? But he had to act fast, because her finger was just over the 'execute' button. They had seen so much on this island that was his evidence for his opinion. Or, he realized, he had seen...

"It wasn't real," Jack said suddenly, as this idea fell upon him. He realized he hadn't told Kate yet, and that she did deserve to know. She looked at him in confusion. "The person in that medical hatch, the one they tried to get you to save-" remorse flashed across Kate's face as she looked to the ground, "that person wasn't real, not even human."

Kate looked back up at him, and he knew she wanted this to be true. It was something they had had in common, the feeling of complete guilt over losing a patient- though Jack had never blamed Kate for the loss. The knowledge the surgery was a mind game made his hatred grow even more. They tried playing with his emotions, his guilt...her emotions and her guilt.

"What are you talking about?" Kate inquired darkly, her voice shaking slightly.

"Ben showed me," Jack explained, "the body wasn't human. No one died, Kate."

She looked away. He was certain she believed him, that she was considering the possibility that this, too, might be a mind game. He was sorry he had to associate such a horrible even to a moment like this, but wouldn't let them fall victim to more lies. There would be no more mind games. Never again would the Others hurt them.

From somewhere above an alarm began to screech. Jack's heart rate jumped, but his eyes remained on Kate. The alarm was part of the game, he told himself, it wasn't real.

"I can't take the chance," Kate said quietly, still not looking at him. His hope fell, and Jack feared the pit of disappointment and hurt would be where it would remain. Kate's finger began falling towards the 'execute' button.

"Fine," Jack said; maybe his leaving would convince her. Turning abruptly, he left the room.

A woman's voice warned him as he walked away, announcing something about a system failure, all the while the alarm screaming with all its might. Jack ignored it all; he expected Kate to be following him any second. They would get out of here, go some place that wasn't as directly connected to the Others.

"Don't go!" Kate shouted suddenly, as though an idea had come across her. He listened. "If you think nothing's going to happen, then stay."

Jack's eyes danced around the spot on the floor he was staring at as he thought. No, that's what they would want him to do. Stay and be afraid...he continued to walk towards the door.

"Jack!"

But he ignored her, and soon her voice was engulfed by the woman's voice of warning and the alarm. He stepped into the jungle and shut the door behind him, eyes to the ground as he walked. He wasn't sure where he would go because Kate had been right about one thing: the Others would be looking for them, and possibly on this island. He wouldn't go back to camp; he kept walking straight into the jungle, opposite that direction.

Worry hit him before he could boast about his faith of his beliefs. What if he was wrong? What if Kate was in danger? But his feet wouldn't stop walking, because part of him still insisted this was just another game. He couldn't let the Others continue to make them feel afraid. The frantic cries of the alarm rang in his mind even as Jack distanced himself from the hatch, and Jack walked further with the thought they would eventually go away. But with every step the fear was overwhelming, because if he was wrong...

Jack slowed to a stop and looked around to see where he was, but this part of the jungle seemed the same as near the hatch. He walked forward, suddenly cautious to all that could be around him.

Up ahead was a clearing, peaking out through the trees. But the clearing wasn't empty. As Jack approached it, he noticed first a dirt-covered wall nearby, and then shadows exposed something hanging over it. He couldn't believe what the shadows drew, and slowly turned his head towards the sky. Surely enough, a plane balanced on the side of the cliff. In shock, Jack stumbled backwards a few steps. They had yet to come across any other modes of transportation on the island, aside from the sailboat. The plane wasn't as large as the Oceanic one was, and Jack soon recognized it as a beech-craft. A beech-craft that had carried someone to this island, or whether, crashed here. There would be supplies in there, possibly a radio that still worked. Perhaps foolishly, Jack let hope raise quickly within him and encourage him to climb up to the plane.

Pain in his wrist resurfaced, burning with each grasp to the rocks above him. But he didn't stop; it would be worth it, if they could find rescue. Fighting pain Jack climbed until he found himself across from the beech-craft. He could look inside. With his good hand clinging to a vine, Jack peered inside the plane. The sight of a skeleton made him jump, and he grasped the vine more tightly. He tried to ignore the skeleton and his eyes searched for a radio, which would lie in a compartment of the plane he could hardly see. If only he could go inside, but his weight might disturb the plane's balance. He would fall, the plane crashing with him. He could die...

He slipped, and Jack gasped in surprise, now swinging his other hand around to hold onto the vine. He looked up; the vine was beginning to rip. Wrist screaming in pain, defeat echoing in his mind, Jack knew he would have to climb back down. The ground below suddenly seemed so far away. Jack recognized this feeling: panic. But something else caught his eye just then...a circle that was carved into the ground, or at least that's what it looked like from here. This new discovery poked at his curiosity, and soon Jack was on the ground again, stepping towards what he saw was a door. A hatch.

He tugged on the handle until it squeaked and then opened. Darkness was revealed as he pulled the door away from the ground, and Jack fell to the ground to get a better look. A ladder stood against circular walls, inviting him down. In the sunlight he could see the trip wouldn't be very far. He looked behind him, back towards the hatch. Kate probably pushed the button by now, Jack thought, she would be fine. He began to climb down.

If it wasn't for the sun he wouldn't have been able to see much: there didn't seem to be any source of light down here. Jack hopped down to the floor below, and saw he didn't have to search far for further directions. The entrance gave away into a short hallway nearby, a path Jack took while taking out a gun that was with him. The weapon guided him into a small room, also circular. He stopped as soon as he saw what was inside.

Televisions lined the wall ahead. They were older models, like the computer in the hatch; there were nine of them. Eyes fixed on his reflection in the screen, Jack approached one of the controls. He turned it clockwise: the familiar sound of a television coming to life whispered in the room, but there was no picture. Jack stood transfixed as he continued turning the controls, curiosity prickling at his skin.

Then he was no longer staring at his reflection. A picture was beginning to come into view; a room. A room...with a couch, he saw. And a Ping-Pong table. And...a sickening realization came over him. He was staring at the hatch he had just left, the one Kate was in now. Someone had placed cameras in it, maybe in other rooms too. There were so many televisions...

Again he met rage, and the anger roared through him almost uncontrollably, but yet so controlled, because he was completely conscious of it. Without hesitating Jack thrust the gun towards the screen, watching as it broke away in, at first, tiny cracks. The room was disappearing, the screen was becoming nothing but white snow. The gun crashed into it, and with every swing Jack felt the satisfying sense of revenge. Never again could the Others hurt them, Jack had vowed earlier, and he would always keep that promise. He thought of all they had done, everything that had happened to them on the island. Now the screen with the room was almost a hole, and Jack moved on to the next screen.

_"I can't," Sarah whispered, her voice full of pain and disbelief. "I can't take the money Jack."_

_"Please," Jack pleaded, as he had done so many times before, "I'm here, offering you this. I want you and your husband to be safe."_

_Pain fell in his voice as he said 'husband', but the longer he stayed here, in her house, with her new furniture and television and piano and husband...accepting the facts was as hard as ever, but as reluctant as he was to accept reality, in hopes that things could still change, Jack knew the present was remaining the same._

_David lay beside him on the couch. His injuries and health were increasingly becoming better, and Jack knew they would no longer need his assistance. David watched them as his wife fought with her ex-husband. Jack wondered if he found it surprising that he was offering to help them. _

_"Jack..."_

_Jack left the poker game that night with money that could turn any family's financial troubles into something less stressful, but he didn't think for once of keeping the money for himself. He only thought of Sarah and David, and these people who were threatening to hurt them. _

_"Please," Jack said again, looking into Sarah's eyes. He may never look into her eyes again...going back home may mean this was the last time he would ever see her. _

_But maybe they could fix things. They could be friends, not be so distant. Maybe she wouldn't ignore him anymore, like their two years together meant nothing. Like it hadn't even happened. He had only ever loved her, he wished she would understand that._

_"Okay," Sarah whispered. Tears tumbled gently down her cheeks as she managed a small smile._

_Jack smiled back, relieved. The thought of helping her and the knowledge that she and her husband would be safe brought a joy to him that made his smile linger, and he almost regretted having to leave so soon. Stepping away from each other, he saw Sarah's eyes catching glimpse of the case of money that lay on the floor._

_"Thank you," she said, voice breaking through tears; he sensed they weren't so much tears of sadness but of happiness and relief, "thank you, Jack."_

_He could only smile. He didn't want anything in return, nothing except the knowledge that she and her husband were safe and possibly the chance to start over, become friends._

Jack stared at the lifeless televisions as he leaned against the wall, catching his breath. He was hardly conscious of the pain in his injured wrist, but gazed at the destruction he had caused with nothing but satisfaction and pride. They were safe now; the idea of being free from any contact with the Others felt like fact in his mind. They were safe.

----

As he walked back to the hatch Jack's mind felt lighter; he could now think without the constant anger. He realized now that the morning was cool, maybe it would rain later, and the sun's greeting didn't make him want to run back to shelter. It was a moment one could appreciate and a feeling he embraced. Moving on was even a possibility in his mind: he and Kate could get this whole button thing sorted out, and they could begin to go on with their lives, without worry of being kidnapped. He could admit that vandalizing someone's property like that wasn't something he would suggest someone else do, and he wished there had been another way for him to know they were safe.

What would happen now? Would they live in the hatch, simply as two people sharing an apartment together? If he came back to find that Kate had pushed the button, Jack decided he would find a way to accept her decision. Their friendship was not something he wanted to lose. But living in the hatch, making this island a permanent place of residence, could he ever accept that? The idea of a relationship with Kate terrified him when he considered being rescued. Kate would begin running again, and all of it would be over. He didn't know if he could accept the present would drift into the future and they would still be on the island, that there was no reason to be afraid of a relationship with Kate.

Once he reached the hatch door it occurred to him that he had to decide on whether or not to tell Kate about the security cameras and plane. He didn't want her to do something stupid, like try and find the radio, but she deserved to know, didn't she? And he couldn't help but to wonder, was there anything that she was hiding from him?

He noticed the hatch was silent when he entered, and only the memory of the alarm could confirm its existence. Glancing around as he walked through the rooms, he noticed Kate wasn't in the kitchen or living area; why had she lingered near the computers?

A sudden clutter of objects made the situation even more curious; concern immediately rushed through him. The entrance to the computer room was covered by some records and other items that had flown towards it. Stepping inside, he saw the computer equipment had moved in the slightest, but the room had obviously been effected by what seemed to be a gust of wind. He also noticed Kate wasn't in sight.

"Kate?" Jack asked, worry raising in his voice.

He stepped towards the computer, panicking in fear of what he might find. There was only a small trail of blood, but no other injuries that he could see trapping Kate on the floor where she lay, unconscious. He fell by her side, sliding his hand behind her head, eyes gazing at her in fear. As he lowered her back onto the floor, blood appeared on his hand.

"Kate?" He said again, this time with less fear and more confidence, "can you hear me?"

His hand tightened on the wound on her head, attempting to ease the bleeding; even more blood appeared. With a gasp of fear Jack got to his feet, and within seconds was in the kitchen, grabbing towels and water. He raced back to the computer room, and was almost surprised with how quickly guilt was surfacing. If only he had been there...how many times had he repeated that statement to himself?

Falling to the floor again, Jack pressed one of the towels against the wound, and found all he could do for the moment was wait. He called for her again, repeating her name, begging for her to escape unconsciousness. But her eyes remained closed and Kate remained still. The computer equipment nearby seemed to be engulfing him, and a strong sense of claustrophobia was coming over him, weighing him down as Jack was met with the pressure of having to save Kate's life.

His eyes closed and Jack thought back to when he left the hatch. He should have listened to her, he should have stayed. No matter who ended up being right, he could have helped, could have been there when she was first injured- he might have even prevented the injury. Left to suffer the consequence, with no explanation as to what happened, Jack could only plead for her to be okay.

There was a soft groan and his eyes flew open, a sigh of relief leaving him as he saw Kate stir. Her eyes contorted into grimaces of pain and confusion as she woke up.

"Kate," he said to her, placing a hand on her arm, "stay still, please."

His voice whimpered at the last word as he tried to keep himself together. Her eyes began to open, and he stared into them, greeting her. He wasn't sure what to say to her first, if he should apologize or comfort her worries, both seemed to be important to say. But he knew she was in danger, and he had to exactly what was wrong.

"You're okay," he told her, "but Kate, it's very important that you answer these questions, okay? And be honest." He drew in a deep breath, silently hoping the answers would be what he wanted to hear. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He held up three fingers.

"Your kidding, right?" Kate said weakly, though amused. She smiled a little.

"I'm serious," he said, "look at me."

She did, in he watched, trying to hide the horror in his eyes as her pupils danced around where his hand hovered in mid-air.

"Four?" She asked uncertainly. "Wait...three?"

Panic rushed through him in a wave of fear. He wished he knew how long she had been unconscious...if only he hadn't run...she could have been unconscious from the moment he left or from the moment he opened the hatch door.

"Is it four or three?" He asked.

Kate stared at him, seeming confused. Jack closed his eyes. He wondered if he should even tell her, he didn't want her to panic. He needed to remain calm...

"Am I really okay?" She asked. He listened to her speak while staring at the darkness of his closed eyes. "Jack?"

He opened her eyes, looking at her again.

"I think you have a concussion," he explained.

"You think?"

"Do you remember what happened?" He said. Now he wished he hadn't admitted his conclusion: he didn't want her to lie in fear of him being right. "Don't lie, Kate."

Terrified, Kate stared at him as everything was told to her. Comprehension seemed to be coming to her slowly, along with the horror of reality. She would be thinking of all that could be wrong with her, the damage that could have happened. Then she would remember where they were and the limited help she would be able to get. But he needed her to tell the truth; he would help her as much as he could.

"I...Desmond left," she recalled, "the button...we had some kind of fight."

A selfish part of him took her response in relief; she didn't even remember what he had done. Yet he would have rather apologized to her than for her to suffer memory loss. Even though that part of him still didn't want her knowing about the fight and his mistakes, Jack replied honestly:

"Yeah."

"So does that mean I don't have a concussion?" Kate asked hopefully.

"What happens after the head injury is as important as the effects," Jack said, "right now, I'm going to be careful and treat this as though it is a concussion and observe your behavior, look for symptoms. Have you had head injury in the past?"

"Not really," Kate said, "I fell off my horse once."

"You had a horse?" Jack said, grinning.

"Actually, it was my neighbor's horse," Kate said. "But it wasn't my fault, it was Tom..."

As her words drifted away so did her eyes, turning to the distance as she was stuck in memory. Even correcting herself added a sad tone to her voice, as though she regretted it wasn't true. Then her hand traveled back to the towel resting against her head, and she tried to feel where the wound was.

"It's okay," Jack told her, gently taking her arm away from the wound. He was respectful of her wish to keep certain parts of her past from him, but he remembered the pleasant tone of her voice as she talked about the horse. "What was the horse's name?"

"Dallas," Kate replied, and with a smile, "his mom lived there. It was a beautiful horse...his family had more of them, too."

"Where did you grow up?" Jack asked, realizing the subject had never been brought up.

"Iowa."

The answer seemed to fit her: he could imagine her growing up in a place with lots of land, horses, even. But now her gaze was becoming more distant than ever, and Jack wondered if it was for a longing of home or longing of someone she had lost.

"What about you?" The question surprised him as she looked back towards him. "Where did you grow up?"

"California," Jack said, "that's where I live now."

He had never moved away from home, never even left the city he grew up in. To some this wouldn't be a problem: family and friends were at home, and they were reluctant to leave. But Jack realized that even though his life had been plagued with drama, he hadn't stepped foot out of where he grew up, knowing this was a place he knew. He could have run away, as a child the thought would occur to him, but he had also been able to realize that he didn't know enough about the world to leave.

"I would have stayed in Iowa if I could," Kate said. A moment of silence passed as they each contemplated Kate's statement. He began to wonder about her past. He kept forgetting she was a wanted criminal and that despite the person she had proven herself to be on the island- kind, trustworthy, understanding- she had done something that made her wanted by the government. Or maybe she was innocent...he wondered if she would talk to him about it if he asked: if she thought she was innocent. "How long do I have to stay on the floor?"

"You can't move right now, it's too risky," he said, regretted what he had to say, "but not too long."

Kate offered him a grateful smile and began to close her eyes-

"Don't go sleep!" Jack warned. Her eyes flew open at the sound of his loud voice. She looked at him, confused and a little hurt but his demanding tone. Jack continued in a calmer tone: "Again, too risky."

"How long do I have to stay awake?" Kate asked, confessing through the sound of her voice his answer worried her.

"A while," he said. He didn't want to tell her exactly how long, how strict the observation of her behavior and health had to be. He wanted her to remain calm and to know she shouldn't give up hope. Hope...if this one thing could happen, if Kate could be okay, he would forgive his accusations of having hope constantly being pulled away.

Kate didn't look happy with his answer, but she didn't argue.

"I'm going to check the wound," he told her. He didn't want to surprise her by suddenly moving.

She nodded, and he shifted so that he was looking at the back of Kate's head. Her dark brown hair was tinted with streaks of red; the dried blood made the curls of her hair straighten so that her hair hung in stiff strands. He grimaced as he moved the hand holding the towel slightly, exposing a red cloth. The cloth had been white when he found it in the kitchen. But as he examined the blood further, he found that none of it seemed fresh.

"The bleeding is beginning to stop," he told her, smiling even though she couldn't see him.

"Yeah..." she caught his arm as he shifted back to face her. She looked up at him, worried. "I feel dizzy."

He frowned a little, but felt relieved when he realized his answer:

"It's probably from loss of blood," Jack said.

Kate seemed to accept this; her look of worry faded. He wished there was more that he could tell her, more that he could do to help her. Having the technology of a hospital, everything a hospital had to provide, would be so much better than taking care of her while she was lying on a floor in this hatch, surrounded by fallen debris.

It was intimidating to sit here and to be forced to remain so close to her. They would see every expression that passed the other's face, every sign of worry and fear, possibly even the guilt that was still inside him. But he could handle the awkwardness; he had to make sure she got better. Maybe it would be best if he apologized, whether she remembered the fight or not.

"Before the accident," he began, deciding on the perfect words for his apology, "we did have a fight. It was the button...I was so insistent that this wasn't really, that everything about this hatch is some kind of mind game. You wanted to push it, and the clock was close to 108 minutes. But I believed so strongly that it was a mind game. I ran out. You tried to stop me, you even told me that I should stay, that I shouldn't be afraid of staying if I thought it was a mind game. But I ran." Confessing his guilt left him with a feeling of hope and knowledge of a chance of forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Kate. I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."

He blinked away tears as thoughts of what could have happened came to him. The accident could have been so much more worse. And already it was bad, Kate was hurt. He never wanted this to happen. She watched as he recovered from his confession, and he hoped what came out of her mouth would be words of forgiveness. But maybe he just didn't deserve forgiveness. He put her in this situation. He ran from the hatch, leaving Kate in danger.

"But it's not a mind game," Kate said, "this computer must be connected to something...it's all real."

"I know," said Jack, still trying to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have run. I'm sorry..."

Her hand raised to the air, moving with a silent grace as it landed on his arm. The hand slid down his arm as he moved to hold it. He held her hand, not exactly sure what this meant, but thinking it was some acknowledgment that she understood.

"You'll be okay," he told her.

"You don't know that," Kate said.

You have to be okay, he thought. He couldn't comprehend the idea of her dying, whether because of him or not. They had become so close, their friendship was so strong. He didn't want to lose her. And somewhere out there Kate had a family. Perhaps Tom was worried about her. He would have to make sure he was doing all he could to help her. She had to get better. He gave her hand a squeeze. Maybe he couldn't be certain that she would be okay, but he wasn't going to lose hope.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing!

Until Next Time...

October Sky


	22. Recovery

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-Two

**Chapter Twenty-Two:** Recovery

Jack winced as the bandages left his wrist, revealing bruised skin and broken bone. He tried to stretch the fingers of his injured hand, but they moaned in agony at the slightest movement. Kate still lay on the floor of the computer room; it was almost two hours since the accident.

"Why did he break your wrist?" Kate asked, eyeing the wound in curiosity and consideration.

"Because he's Ethan," Jack said as he began to wrap the wound tightly with fresh bandages, "he hates me."

He didn't want to tell Kate about the surgery yet. He didn't want her to know the Others would be after him not only because he escaped, but because of a reason that would drive them to a breaking point to capture him again. Unless they believed Ethan's story about breaking Jack's wrist. Even though he was the one with the injury, Jack smirked as he considered this a defeat for the Others: Ethan had been Ben's last choice to do the surgery. He was possibly incapable of succeeding.

"What?" Kate inquired, she must have noticed the brief look of triumph that passed over him.

"Nothing," Jack lied.

She gazed at him curiously, not satisfied with his answer. He tried to ignore her eyes by focusing on changing the bandage on his wrist, but he unsuccessfully ignored the pain. He kept remembering that if he were back home, his arm would be in a cast right now. Back home, he didn't have enemies who would try and break his wrist.

"You never told me what happened," Kate said, "when you were with the Others."

Jack shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing, really," he said, "it was pretty anti-climatic. Not that I'm complaining."

Eyes narrowing, Kate studied his face, searching for evidence of his lie.

"What about you?" Jack said; the question was of honest concern, not just a wish to take the conversation away from him. "What did they do to you?"

Her eyes didn't leave him, but as she blinked her face melted into an expression of quiet remeniscence as she thought about the past few days. He studied her reaction as she had studied his, searching for the truth. She blinked again, and her eyes darted away, landing on a distant spot on the wall next to her.

"Nothing," she said, "they just held me captive until they let me go."

"Kate-"

"I'm not lying!" Kate exclaimed, whipping her head around towards him, staring at him with cold eyes of betrayal. Suddenly they softened. "But I wish you weren't."

Their eyes met, and guilt immediately consumed him. He didn't last a minute against her defenses of emotion and honesty; Jack looked away briefly, sorting out the past few days from the clutter of memory that engulfed him, as though each one of them was trying to cling on to his conscience for support. He remembered being in the room with the mirror, where Ben hid as he observed Jack's first days as a prisoner at his camp. Then he met Ben for the first time and came face to face with the man who was holding him and Kate captive, but Jack was always considered not important enough to know what was happening to him. He remembered seeing Kate in the cage, outside the window, and he remembered yelling at her, desperate to be able to save her. He remembered not being able to save her and the frightening, unimaginable defeat of accepting he could help either one of them. But he never really accepted it...

"Ben's sick," Jack began, shaking away the memories. A shiver shook his conscience as he was forced to remember times when his fate, and Kate's, was out of his hands. He wished he could shake away the memory, and that somehow none of this could have happened. But memory clung to him with a force that hurt him mentally whenever he fought it, his efforts met with feelings of helplessness and fear, feelings that drew him into a deep world away from Kate and the present, luring him to a place where he would be once again held captive, unable to escape these memories. "He has a tumor on his spine, and if he doesn't have surgery, he'll die."

Kate stared at him, trembling as she took in his words. He hoped she was only pale because of the thoughts passing through her head, and not because of the injury that consisted of a million chances of her health turning for the worse. Worried, he handed her a bottle of water. She took it, still gazing at him in an almost absent-minded way. After she took a swallow of the water, she revealed what she had been thinking:

"That's why he wanted you?" Kate asked, her voice sounding dangerously uneven. "To save his life?"

"Ethan's a doctor," Jack said, "but he says I'm better."

"That's why he hates you," Kate realized.

Jack nodded. Then he frowned. Kate was still staring at him, but she didn't seem concentrated on thoughts or what she had just said. Her stair seemed blank, as though she wasn't aware she was still looking at him.

"Kate?" He asked carefully.

"Yeah?" Her reply was weak, and she shifted uncomfortably from where she lay on the floor. A pillow from one of the bunk beds rest behind her head. She reached up, gently touching the wound on her head.

"How do you feel?" He inquired, his eyes contorted into a realm of concern. For the hour after the accident, Jack had kept a close eye on Kate's behavior, though she may not have noticed. She hadn't appeared to have any major symptoms, but he noticed that sometimes she would seem distant or tired. Her speech seemed normal, but he worried that she wouldn't remember this conversation tomorrow.

"Tired," Kate mumbled. Her eyes began to close.

"Stay awake," he instructed. She looked up at him, confused. Jack sighed. This wasn't going to be easy, and he dreaded seeing her suffer through the next few days. How did he tell her what to expect? "There are symptoms that can result from a concussion."

"Then I have a concussion?" Kate said; she sounded scared.

Jack drew in a deep breath and looked away for a moment. Part of him didn't want to admit something could be wrong with her, but he knew he had to stop hoping and start facing reality. That's when his eyes fell on the clock overhead. The time clicked to 101. There was a way to know how long she had been unconscious...

"You don't remember what the clock said when I found you, do you?" Jack said, frantically searching his own memory.

"No," Kate replied, blinking in confusion.

"I think...it couldn't have been that long," Jack said. "It was only on seven, maybe eight."

"Is that a good thing?" Kate asked.

Jack smiled. He couldn't be certain, but he knew he couldn't have been gone for more than fifteen minutes, at least.

"It's better than what it could be," he said.

Kate smiled weakly before returning again to her blank state. Her eyes threatened to close again.

"Kate," Jack said carefully and clearly, "I need you to stay awake so I can monitor you. I need to know what symptoms you have and how long they last."

"But they shouldn't last long, right?" She stared up at him with worried eyes that danced around his face.

He hesitated, wanting to lie to her. The truth might ruin her before they found out if her condition was even that severe.

"No," Jack said, "they shouldn't. They might, but it's rare. Treating a concussion, especially in our situation, mostly means observing behavior, not trying to move on too fast."

His voice threatened to break as all of his medical knowledge came pouring back to him. Pages of textbooks turned in his head. List of symptoms, charts of stages of illness and percentages taken from studies scared his attempts to remain calm. Different types of brain trauma and its effects brought a panic to him that he almost couldn't control. He was afraid he was shaking, his eyes stared in horror to the wall in front of him.

"Jack?" Kate asked uncertainly. It could have been in concern for him or in fear of what he was thinking.

Face contorted into forced calmness, Jack struggled to pull off a reassuring smile.

"Everything's fine," he said, "there's no reason to think this is more serious than it is...there's just a few side effects."

Kate stared at him, waiting for him to melt into defeat and confess his lies, but after a moment of Jack's fighting to keep confidence, she gave a small nod and looked away. Relieved, Jack closed his eyes, exposing his fears only to a darkness only he could see. He yearned for strength, for the ability to be able to get through this. He was so used to having assistance, even of having his father beside him, telling him what to do. Even in the days where his drinking habits were more obvious than ever, his father was there to help, though sometimes it sounded though his words of advice and order came from the empty, cold conscience of an unfamiliar mind. What would he give to have that help now? To be able to seek help from textbooks and have someone to guide him through surviving the island?

"Jack?" Kate said. Her voice was small and uncertain, and when he opened his eyes, he turned to her, and saw that she looked as uncertain as she sounded. "The alarm..."

His traveled to the alarm that floated above them, not only keeping the time until some disastrous event in the hatch, but focusing its eyes on their every move and becoming in tune with their lives. There was no going past 108 minutes. If they dared tried to test time and live on a different scale of time, something was already planned for their punishment. Right now the alarm was on 107. He looked to the floor; he understood what Kate meant.

"Okay."

A moment of silence followed and at first Jack wasn't sure if he had said anything. But from the corner of his eye, he noticed Kate staring at him, not in gratitude, but in astonishment.

"What?"

"I'll push the button," Jack said, looking away, also unable to believe what he was saying, "when the alarm gets to 108, I'll enter the code, push execute. Something happened when you almost didn't before, and I don't want to know what else was supposed to happen."

The alarm sounded. It buzzed once, twice. There was no way this was just a mind game, he thought. Something happened that hurt Kate. But doing this would still be helping the Others. He looked to Kate, whose expression was blank, waiting for him to fulfill his promise. Jack got to his feet.

"What are the numbers?"

He wasn't going to take any chances. He typed in the numbers as Kate recited them.

"4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42."

His finger hesitated as he typed in the last number, shaking from the unfamiliar task of typing on a keyboard. Instantly he became aware of the alarm sounding again, and Jack's finger hit the 'execute' button swiftly, afraid of what would happen if he didn't hit it at that exact moment. The alarm went silent, and he heard the flap of cards reeling back to their original order. The numbers on the computer screen disappeared, leaving a blinking symbol awaiting their next meeting, in exactly 108 minutes. He expected to feel some sort of rush, as though he just completed a challenge that would heal him. All he felt was the anger he had been feeling towards the Others ever since Ethan's lie. That anger wouldn't go away, not in 108 minutes, not ever.

"You okay?" Kate asked.

Jack nodded and slowly lowered himself back to the floor. He felt to his spot beside the computer desk, and the soreness from standing up was just hitting him. Head falling into his hands, Jack thought about his decision. Had he really just saved the world?

"It feels weird, doesn't it?" Kate said. She eyed him like she understood exactly what he was going through and had possibly even predicted it. But she was wrong. He didn't feel like he had just saved the world.

He shook his head.

"Something's not right," he said, "this can't be true."

Kate's mouth fell open, shocked.

"That computer saves the world, Jack," Kate said, "I don't think Desmond would lie about that."

"What does Desmond know?" Jack retorted, his voice becoming loud and angry. "He left us here! He could be half-way back home now!"

"He'll tell them where we are-"

"He doesn't care!" Jack exclaimed. He rubbed his hands over his face, suddenly feeling the effects of lack of sleep. "All he cares about is that someone is here to press that damn button. If it's really that important, don't you think there's...back up, or something?"

Kate stared at him in horror as his words hit him; when she spoke she didn't continue the argument, but admitted fear.

"Do you think they know we're here?" She whispered.

Looking away, Jack thought about the truth. His injured wrist still hurt, and he was hungry. The sensation of being able to let out his anger opened up his conscience to all of his emotions, and suddenly Jack felt lost in a world of helplessness. No one could help them. He wanted to be strong, but he was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that they were stranded here, and there would always be drama. They were hurt, and he was their only chance of medical attention. They couldn't go outside, people were looking for them. He was lost in an unfamiliar land, and every turn led him to a dead end. Now all he could offer Kate was reassurance, and hope that nothing he said would prove to be a lie. Fortunently, he could offer one certain truth.

"No," Jack said, "not now."

"Not now?"

"When I left the hatch earlier," Jack explained, "I found another hatch. There were televisions inside, security cameras of this hatch. I destroyed them."

Kate didn't respond. Her eyes faded away with a sympathetic smile, and then whatever she was feeling was hidden from him. She watched him, and he felt like she was trying to read him and see past the anger. The more she studied him the more he mentally distanced himself from her. He didn't want her to know how worried he was, and how he was afraid every moment. There was so much that went unsaid between them; there was so much he hadn't told her. Secretly he supposed he had hoped his past wouldn't matter on the island, that he could have a second chance. But he found his past buried in the events of every day, and he would see it whenever he closed his eyes, or made a decision, or when fear would creep through his mind. He searched for a way of dealing with it all but was met with overwhelming memories and emotion that left him too shaken to handle it all.

"Maybe you should get something to eat," Kate suggested.

"I'm okay," Jack lied.

He felt sick. As the moment passed, and his anger deflated into a burden easier to carry, Jack broke away from his thoughts.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Okay," Kate said, "I have a headache."

The yelling probably helped that, Jack thought bitterly. He had to concentrate on making sure Kate would get better. He went back to observing her behavior, noticing how her eyes fluttered to a tired close before she opened them again. A smile fell across her face as she tried to brush away sleep.

"After a while you can move," Jack said, wanting to bring more hope to them, "this is just a precaution, I don't want to disturb the injury. You'll have to rest for a few days and make sure you don't get hurt again."

Kate's smile lingered, appreciating his words. He returned the smile.

"Thanks," she said, "for everything...taking care of me..."

"It's nothing," Jack replied, "you should see me at the hospital."

"Yeah?" Kate said, amused. "What, are you a miracle worker or something?"

His smile faded to a distance that gave himself away instantly. If he tried to hide she would only become more aware that he had reason to hide. He thought about telling the truth and allowing there to be less secrets between them.

"A few years ago there was this woman," Jack said. The day of the car crash flashed in his head. Everything was clear, nothing was forgotten. "She was in a car crash, and her spine was crushed. Everyone thought she would never be able to walk again. But I wanted to help her, I knew I could save her. And I did. She walked again. I saved her."

Kate's expression of suspicion brightened into admiration.

"That's great," she said.

She didn't question the memory, and Jack was left wondering how he would bring up the fact that that patient was his ex-wife. He realized he was grateful she hadn't, and if he wanted to, he wouldn't have to bring up the subject at all. Jack decided he would think about it. He thought about how much of his past Kate didn't know and how he should tell her. His experience with divorce shattered his confidence when it came to dating, and Jack was afraid to admit that to Kate. If he was going to try and strengthen his relationship with Kate, he didn't want that experience to get in the way.

"So were you this careless before the island?" Kate asked, a mischievous grin forming on her face.

"Excuse me?" Jack said, amused by the question.

"Did you always go around getting yourself hurt and in trouble?" She said, grinning.

"Trouble finds me," Jack said. He found that he was smiling as well.

"I take that as a yes," Kate said.

Jack found himself opening up to her, but he didn't feel pressured or reluctant. The confession came out of him naturally.

"I got teased a lot as a kid," he admitted.

"If only they could see you now," Kate said, "fighting boar and running away from smoke monsters."

"Yeah," Jack said, letting out a laugh, "what about when you were a kid?"

He regretted asking the question, realizing that there wasn't much Kate had said about her past. He worried the topic would be too personal, that maybe it would bring up bad memories. But Kate replied; she was even still smiling.

"I had friends," she said, "but Tom...we were really close. I thought I would marry him."

Jack grinned at the revelation and at the thought of Kate as a child, dreaming of marrying a boy she was friends with. Then he saw her eyes falling to that distant look again, gazing into her past. His grin turned to a sad smile.

"He would be proud of you," Jack said.

Kate smiled sadly. Suddenly her face contorted into a grimace, haunted by pain. A tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek. She let it sit there a moment as it rested there, until she wiped it away quickly. He watched her, his face somber, wondering what it was about her past that made her melt away like that, sending the tears forming in her eyes. Then, feeling as though he were intruding on her secrets, he looked away.

"Your dad," Kate said, her voice almost a whisper with the effects of her memories, "he would be proud of you."

Jack felt his eyes blinking away tears before he realized they had surfaced. He couldn't be as sure. He would love to be able to agree with her, but he remembered how his relationship with his father had been left. If only they had had more time, if only Jack could have done something. He turned back to Kate. He didn't want to think about this...he was still trying to find a way to fix the past, not remember how he ruined it.

"How do you feel?" He asked her. He thought she may be impatient by now with his questions, wondering what the meaning of the interrogations were and if he knew something about her condition he wasn't telling her. But she smiled.

"Okay," she replied.

He looked at her, studying her. Her condition didn't seem to be getting worse. The bleeding hadn't returned, and he witnessed very few side effects of the concussion.

"If you want, you can move to the bedroom," he said.

Kate smiled, but he sensed she wasn't completely pleased with the suggestion.

"What about the couch?" She said.

"That would be okay too."

She smiled again. Placing her hands firmly on the floor, she acted as though she were about to lift herself off the floor.

"What are you doing?" He inquired.

"Getting up," Kate said, clearly confused.

He shook his head.

"You won't be able to walk on your own," he said, "not very well, and you can't risk falling."

Kate stared ahead to the wall across from her, looking frustrated. He waited for her reply. He expected it would be difficult for her to come to terms with the recovery process: completely trusting him with her health, not to mention she usually became impatient if she had to stay in one place for too long.

"Fine," she said.

Though she was obviously unhappy with her decision, she reached up. He took her arms and helped her stand. Wincing in pain, it took her a minute to recover from the sudden movement. She blinked, falling backward a little on her heels. Jack caught her and placed an arm around her shoulder. He caught her staring at his hand, as though contemplating accepting the situation she was in. She would have to become more dependent on him than usual, but she had to get better.

"It'll be okay," he told her.

She nodded and began to walk forward. Her steps were small, and he could feel her tremble as she struggled to remain balanced. He held her tightly as they carefully left the room. He began to look at every step as another step forward in the recovery process. The couch was now only a few feet away, and he felt like smiling. She would get better.

A shiver of panic erupted inside him as he felt Kate slip from his grip, but he realized they had reached the couch. She was sitting down, shaking a little. Jack found himself smiling, despite Kate's disgruntled look that may have even been annoyance as she lay down on the couch.

"I just had to walk a few feet," she said, stunned with disbelief, unable to comprehend what Jack looked at as an achievement. Kate couldn't allow herself to be let down.

"You'll get better," Jack promised, "like I said, sometimes concussions can cause side effects: dizziness and trouble balancing. But they're very common. They could be gone within the next few days."

"'Next few days'?" Kate repeated. "And what do you mean could be gone?"

Jack sighed, regretting his choice of words.

"Sometimes concussions can lead to Post-Concussion Syndrome. This can last anywhere from a few days to weeks...sometimes some of the symptoms never go away." Fear immediately clouded her eyes as she stared at him. "But that's rare. You'll be fine."

"But maybe not," Kate said. She turned her head away from him, gazing at the couch. He watched her, searching for the words to say.

"It helps if you rest a lot of after the injury," Jack said, "like I've said, I've got to observe your behavior closely, try and detect any symptoms. So far, there doesn't seem to be anything serious. The side effects you have will probably be gone in a few days."

"You keep saying 'probably'," Kate said. She sounded as though she was ready to accept defeat. Jack panicked as he saw her in this condition, so different from her normal personality. She was afraid, even though he knew she wanted to be strong. "I guess doctors shouldn't make promises, huh?"

"I keep my promises," Jack said.

She looked to him, her eyes dancing around him with curiosity.

"Do you?" She asked.

He hesitated. He was trapped between the constant battle of not wanting to lie to her and not wanting her to lose hope. But what did that mean? He had to lie for them to have hope? That didn't seem right.

"I try to," he replied.

Kate drifted away, nodding as her eyes wondered to the wall beside her. Silence entered his mind like a calming steam was passing through his conscience, and Jack mentally took a step back, analyzing what he just realized. He should be able to give Kate hope without feeling like he was lying. The problem wasn't the lack of truth in the words he was saying, it was the lack of confidence he felt. The fear that he wasn't as great of a doctor as people told him he was. This island was testing him, sending him through trials and obstacles as it desired to reveal Jack's true capabilities as a doctor. The realization didn't ease his worries; it simply brought more anger towards the island they were trapped on. It wasn't just an island, it was some greater force that knew exactly what it was doing. Kate was being put in the middle, as though this was a game, and if he failed they would simply wake up. But they wouldn't wake up. This was real; he had to save her. He was going to ask her again how she felt, but when his eyes fell on her, she was asleep.

----

He watched as the sugar fell into the cup of dark liquid, feeling half-awake as he stirred the sugar into the coffee. Kate was still asleep in the next room, and Jack took her advice and decided to fix something to eat. He stared down at his half-eaten bowl of cereal and the steam that rose from the coffee. His eyes blinked; sleep was attempting to lure him towards rest. Shaking his head, Jack fought off sleep and carefully raised the coffee to his lips. He swore he felt the hot liquid burn in his throat before it even touched his lips, and suddenly the drink that he was once addicted to tasted unwelcoming and coarse. Nothing was the same anymore.

Flinching from the harsh liquid, which had already eased its way through the tiny scars that cut into his lips, Jack sat the cup onto the table. His head lowered to a hand, where there he rest. He sighed. He had been taken away from the elements of normal life, the routine and daily tasks that made him the great doctor they said he was. How quickly would it have been to detect a brain injury back home, using modern technology? Here, stripped from those necessities he was shown that it hadn't always been that easy. Now he had to adapt, discover his talent hidden within the island's tests.

The cereal before him stared back at him, and his stomach moaned with encouragement as he thought about finishing the meal. How long had it been since he had milk and cereal, used a real spoon, or had dishes to wash in the sink? The hatch was trying to bring back the normalcy of life back home, but it had forgotten the main feature in Jack's life: his work. Hospitals and medicine, machines that helped him diagnose the problem and save the patient. Other doctors who were there to help.

It wasn't just the island that was taking away these pastimes. Since his father's death Jack felt like the world had changed. Even when his father wasn't talking to him, there was still hope; Jack could find a way to fix their relationship. Then he died and that hope was ripped from him, and he was left with pieces of their relationship as his father left this world. What was he supposed to do with those pieces? Was there still a possibility that he could find closure? He finished the last bite of the cereal with this thought and sat the bowl and spoon in the sink before heading into the living room, the cup of coffee still in his hands. His eyes fell on Kate as he walked through the room, watching her closely as she slept, making sure nothing would go wrong if he stepped into the computer room to see how much time was left before the button had to be pushed again. Twenty minutes. He looked around the room, at the computer equipment and alarm that hovered in the air above him. He realized he was waiting for an answers. Computers always brought answers. Projects like this, with the effort and determination to save the world, should offer answers. When it was clear that no answers would come to him, Jack left the room.

A soft groan whispered in his ear as Jack went back to the living room, and he noticed Kate's eyes fluttering open. She looked around, eyes blinking in confusion as the night's events came back to her.

"How do you feel?" Jack asked as he walked towards her, sitting the cup of coffee on a table beside the couch.

"Okay," Kate said, "my head still hurts a little bit."

Jack frowned. He had already checked for medicine in the hatch. He found some injections he didn't recognize, but there were some bottles that claimed to be medicine for head aches and various other types of pain, but he was hesitant to trust them. But there was still medicine in the caves.

"Back in the caves there's some medicine that can help that," Jack said, "I'll go down there in a little while, and I can get some of our things too."

Kate's eyes widened and she stared at him in disapproval, nearly frantic.

"No," she said, "I can live with the pain. You can't go back there. They're looking for us."

"I know," Jack said. Secretly he wasn't as willing to go back to where the Others might find him, but his concern for Kate pushed away fear. "I'll be careful. This hatch is armed with weapons."

"We had weapons," Kate reminded him, "five guns."

"I'll be careful," Jack said, "I promise."

She gazed up at him, and he knew she was thinking of their previous conversation. He wished she knew how much he tried to keep his promises; it was practically what he lived for. Helping people and not disappointing them were important to him, goals he was determined to achieve.

"I'll be okay."

Almost a half an hour later, after his second time of entering the code into the computer and pressing the button, Jack left Kate alone in the hatch with the promise of being careful and a list of promises he wanted her to keep as well. He made sure she would try and walk again, that she would rest and try not to worry about him. His heart pounded as he pushed the hatch door open. The shade of the jungle shielded him from a sun that swarmed with heat. Even though he had told Kate repeatedly that he would be okay, and had told himself that as well, as Jack stepped into the jungle fear aroused doubt that almost sent him running for the shelter of the hatch. He stepped forward cautiously, trying to pull himself together. He could do this. He was armed, he was alert. Stepping carefully through the jungle, Jack handled each step as though the next would bring death. Kate had told him how to get from the hatch to the caves, constructing the path based on memories of leaving the beach and finding Desmond, who led her to the hatch. He followed that path, making sure that he was on the right trail every second of his journey.

Despite the fear and anxiety that shook him as he walked through the jungle, Jack was grateful to be outside. He hoped the fresh air could heal the anxieties of his mind, so that once he found the medicine he could go back to the hatch with more confidence than ever that he could help Kate. But the feeling of being outside and being free to move where he wanted made him yearn for their camp on the beach, and he desired the days of being able to do nothing but wait for rescue. He thought of Vincent and wondered if he was safe. Would he have been able to find food and water without Jack and Kate being there to take care of him?

He spotted the caves up ahead, its entrance standing there in the foreboding sunlight that fell through the trees above him. Sighing in relief, Jack entered the familiar shelter, grateful to be there again. As soon as he stepped in, however, he was greeted with the feeling of stepping into a childhood home, where memories dwelled in the shadows of a life once lived here. Everything was exactly how he remembered it. The waterfall still ran its continuous stream of fresh water; water bottles lined up beside it, waiting to be refilled. He took a step closer into the caves, and he heard the conversations of the past, times where they didn't know the complete tales of the horrors of the island. He felt home-sick; he wanted nothing more to be in the past, to prevent the present. Even if they couldn't get off the island, he wanted to go back to a time where they were survivors of a plane crash. That was all. They were surviving the island, and even after meeting one of the victims of it they could still live on without knowing there was an entire group of people there, at least some of which who wanted to tear their lives apart. He felt even more home-sick when he was forced to realize that couldn't happen. Stuck in the present, Jack had no choice but to complete the task he came here to do. The medicine was in a bag in the cave he used to stay in, but first he took a detour.

The cave Kate stayed in was clearly more organized than his, containing only a few small bags and clothes neatly stacked against the wall. A larger, empty duffle bag rest in the corner. Taking it, Jack filled it with Kate's belongings before moving onto the cave he stayed in. The familiar dim light of what was practically his bedroom on the island greeted him as he stepped inside. An amused smile crept across his face as he saw the clutter that made up the cave. A mass of clothes that he had taken in search for clothes of his size were thrown in an unorganized manner throughout the room, covering a couple of pairs of shoes and other luggage he had brought to the caves. He packed a few of his belongings, remembering when he and Kate were first met with having to use the luggage from the crash. To this day, wearing the clothes of the people who hadn't survived the crash, using the fuselage as though it were a store, was a thought that made him feel sick. If only he had found his own bag.

The corner across from him held the medicine he was looking for. He stared at for a moment, eyes running over the containers of medicine, knowing exactly what was in each. This corner was the one organized section of the room, handled with care as he had placed the medicine into categories he would check and and recheck every day. It was here were the steps that needed to be taken to heal injuries could be completed. Jack stepped forward and began clearing out the medicine until the corner was empty.

Once the task was complete, Jack headed to leave the caves. He wished they could stay here again and that some sign would be given, something to tell them the caves were safe. But they were also where the Others first found them. He spotted blood stains where Ethan had beat him up and where he had Kate had been taken. Jack's eyes trailed to the entrance to the caves. Moments before the kidnapping, he and Kate had been sitting there, and they had kissed. At that moment, his thoughts had only been of the possibility of building a relationship with Kate, met soon-after with the fear of moving forward. Once he walked away, that's when the kidnapping had taken place.

His eyes caught sight of something else. Something sitting in the back of the caves. From here it looked like a wooden box, a chest that would hold more medicine or clothes. It was a coffin. Stepping towards it, Jack approached the coffin as cautiously as he had walked through the jungle. It was the coffin that was supposed to hold his father. While other people had loaded bags and boxed of gifts to travel with them, Jack had arranged to take with him a coffin. He was headed back home, where he would bury his father. He hadn't been able to succeed. His mother was still at home waiting for him. She had probably gotten a call saying that her husband was dead and her son was missing.

His hands fell on the edges of the coffin as he reached it. The bags of luggage threatened to send him falling to the floor, but Jack mustered the strength to be able to stand there, gazing at the coffin that should be buried in the ground, right now in California, with his father inside. Then, just as he had the first time he found his father's coffin, Jack threw open the cover.

He stumbled backwards. Hitting the ground hard, Jack remained there, frozen. The straps from the bags of luggage fell to his wrist; his injured hand screamed with pain. Jack stared at the coffin, eyes wide with horror. He struggled to stand, shock sending his body into a trembling fit of fear. His hands, shaking and pale, grasped the edges of the coffin once more. He looked down, his eyes slowly trailing to the interior of the coffin, carefully moving, hoping to catch any sign that this was a trick. A hallucination. Then his eyes landed on the body of his father.

Struggling to keep his balance, Jack focused on the features of his dead father's face: the pale, almost blue, skin that seemed transparent as he could see the bones of his face sticking through flesh, the hair on his head that he could still remember turning grey early in Jack's life, now white. His entire body was wrapped in a suit, complete with a tie that hung from his neck, and his father was prepared to leave for a meeting that he would never get to. Or maybe one that he was going to. New shoes hugged his feet. He looked calm laying there, not worried about this meeting. For the past few months, and in many other times in his life, Jack had been desperate to see his father like this, content with the world, its flaws and its habits that couldn't meet the perfection Christian desired to achieve. Whenever he was met with failure, his father would brush it away as though the restaurant was out of the soup he ordered. Jack had always wondered how he could live like that, and had always been determined that his father was lying: he did care, but in order to make it through the day Christian said otherwise. Life didn't have to be like that, and Jack wished his father had seen that. He had cared, but he would only share his feelings with the drink that would lead to his death. Jack found very few memories of his father honestly being concerned about him, when Jack could be certain of this without feeling as though his father was trying to control other's views of him. It was those memories he focused on then, as he gazed down at the body of his father. He would miss those moments, and he regretted that there were not more. Jack wished he could go back and change the way his father had lived and fix the relationship they struggled to keep.

One of his hands left where it had been holding onto the coffin and, carefully, he reached down and touched his father's hand. It felt cold and stiff at first, but as their hands closed together, Jack was hit with shock; it was as though his father was there. Tears began to swell in his eyes, and Jack didn't attempt to control them. He had wanted so badly to fix their relationship, and he hated so much the way his father's life had ended. Shouldn't they have been given a chance? Things were supposed to change. His father should have been able to find help. He wasn't supposed to die before that. Choking on tears, Jack clung to his father's hand and place his other hand, the injured one, on his father's arm.

That's when he caught sight of the object sticking out from underneath his father's arm. Confused, Jack gasped for air as tears continued to stream down his face, and he picked up what he saw was an envelope. His uninjured hand still connected with his father's hand, Jack opened the envelope with a trembling hand and found the letter inside. It was a single sheet of paper, with only a sentence written on it in carefully scripted words:

_Do the surgery, and you can go home._

He gasped again and grasped the letter tightly in order to not drop it. Did they do this? Did they bring his father here? He realized he wasn't angry. He was grateful to be here, to be able to have this moment with his father. He knew he should put the letter back in the envelope; that would be how they knew he was there. He didn't want to leave, but Jack remembered Kate back in the hatch, waiting for him to return. He gazed down at his father's face and at his closed eyes, and Jack wanted this to be another one of those moments, where he could receive advice from his father and he could help him get through this.

"This isn't good-bye," Jack said. His voice shook from crying, but he continued to speak, hoping his father could hear him. "I'll get out of this."

He squeezed his father's hand and then let go, more tears running down his face as he watched his fingers stretch out and his hand come back to the edge of the coffin. He stared at his father's body for one last moment, thinking again of those memories. Even if there wasn't more, he was grateful for what he had. His father had been sick, victim to a disease that brought him apparent peace and a supposedly painless life. Jack tried to help him, others tried to help him. They hadn't failed. His father was gone, but that didn't mean they lost.

He jumped at a sound that scared him, and at first he thought it was gunfire, but realized his fear had mistaken the sound. A dog was barking. Turning his head, Jack saw that Vincent was standing nearby. Jack was surprised to find himself smiling. There was hope, he thought. He left the coffin open as he dropped to the ground beside Vincent, embracing the dog and feeling grateful for the return of a friend. Hope was suddenly all around him. Kate would get better, they would survive this island. There was even still hope for rescue, and Jack could take his father home and bury him. At the thought of his father, Jack stood up. Vincent watched as he walked back towards the coffin, once again looking down at his father's body. He couldn't find the words to describe what he was feeling, and he didn't try, because he didn't want this to be the end. He closed the coffin and his father was momentarily hidden from the world, waiting for the time when Jack would take him back home.

----

Jack was still wiping away tears as he entered the hatch, but his smile hid any sign of grieving. He nearly ran to the living room, where he found Kate resting on the couch. Her eyes weren't closed and they diverted towards him as he walked in.

"Hey," he said, lowering the bags of luggage to the ground. He kneeled down beside the couch. "How do you feel?"

Kate smiled, as though amused by his behavior.

"Okay," she said. His smile widened a little, and he tried to convince himself that she was being honest. Still her injury showed no signs of getting any worse, and Jack found that it really seemed like Kate had no more pain that a headache. "What happened?"

She must have noticed the dried tears on his face, or perhaps his hands were still shaking. His smile threatened to break as he remembered his father laying in the coffin, but he reminded himself of the hope he had found.

"Nothing," he said, "everything will be okay."

A small smiled spread across her lips, but Kate looked too worried to be completely reassured. He decided not to tell her about the note and the fact that the Others had been near the hatch. That didn't matter. He would find a way out of this situation. There was hope now, and he would make sure they didn't lose that.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing! I'm looking forward to exploring options for plots, because so much happened that I can use for this story. I'll get back to flashbacks soon, so I hope no one's forgotten about them, and everything that was happening before Jack went to help Sarah. I'm glad everyone's enjoying the story!

Until next time...

October Sky


	23. The Captive

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-Three

**Chapter Twenty-Three: **The Captive

Studying wasn't so bad when you were learning something you were interested in or could find interest in. That could theoretically happen with anything, if you concentrate on something, and want to do well, then hard work will be worth it. It probably wasn't a surprise to anyone that Jack liked to study medical textbooks and theories, whether it would be something he knew and could learn more about or something new. When he found the medical journals amongst the books on the bookshelves in the Swan, he couldn't help but to feel excited. Now he sat in the computer chair, which had been moved to the living room, waiting to be able to pursue his daily interrogation once Kate woke up, asking about how she was feeling and if there was any change from the previous day. He knew she was getting impatient- it had been a week and he still refused to let her get up and walk around as much as he could- but he knew how important this was. When she began to stir awake that day he immediately closed the book he had been reading.

"Hey," he greeted.

She looked at him, dazed eyes still parting with sleep as she sat up a little from where she lay.

"It's a little creepy when you watch me sleep," she said. Her voice was tired and almost annoyed, as though warning him not to argue with her. A laugh still escaped him.

"I'm not watching you sleep."

She glanced at the book he was reading, eyes trailing over the title full of medical terms. Her expression contorted into a struggle to comprehend what she was reading until at last she decided to stop trying to understand.

"Sounds interesting," she commented.

"It is," Jack replied, "a lot of medical stuff is. The information they have here is unreal. There are theories I've never heard of and advanced procedures that they've accomplished."

"Probably nothing I would understand," Kate said. He wasn't sure if she was annoyed or making an honest comment, but a grin spread across her face. "So I think today's the day."

He stared at her, confused.

"For what?"

"To walk," she said. Her grin remained even at his immediate reaction of disapproval. "It's been a week, Jack."

"It's just really important to keep you safe," Jack said, determined not to be persuaded by her desperate wish to move past the accident and continue with her life. It didn't matter how much time past. If something happened to her there could be dangerous consequences.

"You're overprotective," she protested, "I'll be careful. I'm tired of just sitting here."

"Yeah, well the rest of the hatch isn't that exciting," Jack said.

"It's been a week," Kate said again. Excitement and attempts to manipulate his thoughts with her optimism was gone now. He studied her, eyes fixed on the desperation that was physically visible on her face as she continued to try to convince him to let her move on with her life. He understood, but there was just too much risk. He couldn't be responsible for her getting hurt again. "There's been no change. I feel fine."

Her eyes met his, pleading for him to agree. He knew she was right; there had been no change. There was hardly any memory loss, only what she had forgotten from before the accident. After the first day she rarely appeared tired, and her vision had gotten better. Maybe it was time to begin to move on, and still they could take recovery slowly and carefully.

"Okay," he agreed, though reluctantly. He was going to cautious, extremely cautious, about Kate's recovery, but Kate's smile made him feel a little better. Her health had been improving, and he was convinced she would respect the fact that she had to be careful.

Kicking the covers away anxiously, Kate prepared to stand. She shifted so that she was sitting on the edge of the couch, feet touching the floor. Hands on either side of her, Kate took a moment to recover from the sudden movement of preparation to stand. She looked as though she may be doubting her decision, and though before he had tried to change her mind, he now wanting to convince her to believe in herself. Before he could say anything, Kate nodded.

"I'm ready."

She held her hands out to him, her fingers trembling slightly. Their eyes connected as Jack took her hands in his. They both understood how much they trusted each other, and rather it was facing a life and death situation or helping Kate walk for the first time after the accident, they each were willing to keep this trust. They never broke eye contact as Kate carefully stepped away from the couch while Jack pulled her forward, and Kate moved in small steps in the silence of the room, where the hatch itself didn't dare to interrupt. At last Kate was standing, and she smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. Jack smiled as well, though struggling to feel as relieved as he let go of her. She swayed for just a moment, but Jack's arm was immediately around her shoulders to help her balance. She smiled at him, thanking him for his help. They began to walk towards the kitchen.

The steps they took were only inches apart from the step before. Neither spoke. Kate had yet to stumble or show any signs of being incapable of walking other than the knowledge that she had hardly walked all week. Her breathing didn't speed up but remained slow and steady, and every now and then she gasped as walking slowly drew energy out of her. In the distance the clock in the computer room clicked to signal a minute had passed, but they ignored time. Kate's eyes trailed from her feet to the kitchen ahead. They slowly became closer to the room, and soon their feet touched the room of the kitchen. He felt Kate tremble slightly, and at first he thought she was relieved, but then he recognized that she was nervous. He tightened his grip on her arm, where his hand lay on her shoulder, to remind her that he was there. Leading her towards the kitchen table, their silence grew possibly more silent as they took their final steps. Jack helped Kate sit down, and as his hand left her arm he realized that her skin was cold to the touch and shaking. He sat down across from her an offered her a smile.

"All I had to do was walk to the next room," Kate said, holding a hand to her head.

"You're doing fine," Jack promised.

He looked around the kitchen and at the food sitting on the counter. Standing up, he walked over to the counter and began to make something to eat for breakfast.

"You're doing fine," Jack said again, "you-"

The sound of a fist pounding on a door rang through the hatch. Jack looked up, startled. He turned to Kate.

"Was that you?" He asked. She shook her head. Someone knocked again. Jack thought quickly, his mind racing with fear. "Come here."

He helped Kate stand up and led her towards the armory, walking at a slightly faster pace than they should have.

"Jack, what-"

"Stay in here," Jack said as he began turning the combination on the lock.

"I'm not going to just hide!" Kate exclaimed.

She tried to jerk his hand away from the door, but he grabbed her arm; the door opened. Their eyes met, and Jack pleaded to her to understand.

"I'm a fugitive, Jack," Kate began, her voice dark and angry, "I've been running from the government. I'm probably more qualified to handle these situations than you are."

"You're hurt," Jack reminded her, "I'm serious, Kate, if you get her again the consequences could be...they would be really bad. I'm not doing this because I don't think you're capable of doing this, I'm doing this because I care about you."

Their eyes met again, and Jack suddenly wasn't concerned with wondering if Kate would understand. He had always cared about her, and surely she knew that, but every time he said that out loud it seemed to bring their relationship closer. They would connect on a more emotional level; what was said would really mean something to them. Kate didn't say anything, she didn't argue, so Jack gently forced her to move inside the armory. Neither said anything, and Jack thought he would be able to walk away feeling only guilt for having to do this to her, but Kate stepped forward. He reached out a hand to stop her, but then he realized she wasn't trying to escape. She was trying to kiss him. He still held out a hand.

"I'll be back soon," he promised.

He watched Kate's eyes, bursting with the threat of crying, as he pulled the door shut. For a moment he gazed at the floor, hand rested on the armory door, soaking in these last few moments before he would enter the world he had been hiding from for the past six days. But the door to the hatch was opening, and he hardly had time to contemplate his thoughts. Jack double checked to make sure he still had a gun with him and headed towards the entrance to the hatch. He wasn't preparing himself to re-enter that world of fear and danger, but he was considering all possible ways that he could keep his promise to Kate. Still his heart pounded and his head raced as he entered the hall that would lead to the hatch door, though when he reached the entrance he put on a fake smile and an act that he could hopefully use to escape whatever might happen next.

The man on the other side of the door was someone he had never seen before, someone who looked curiously out of place when the Others were considered. An eye-patch hid an injured, or possibly missing, right eye. He was nearly clean-shaven, and Jack could guess he wasn't a castaway on the island. Calluses and dirt cut into the man's hand that was leaving the door; he had just begun to open it himself before Jack did. Jack considered what he knew and decided there was hope this man wasn't here looking for Jack himself. He wasn't even armed.

"Can I help you?" Jack asked, casually as possible.

The man quickly took in Jack's appearance and replied:

"There's been a communication failure across the island," the man spoke with a Russian accent, "I came to make sure everything is all right here."

He hid all signs of relief, determined to make his lies believable.

"Everything's fine," Jack said, "I was just about to make something to eat."

The Russian nodded. He stared at Jack for a moment, as though considering all Jack told him and trying to find what the lie was. Jack remained silent, hoping any moment to hear confirmation that the Russian didn't suspect him of anything.

"Would you mind if I come inside?" The Russian asked. "I just walked half-way across the island, and I've seemed to have dropped my bottle of water on the way."

Jack hesitated, hopefully not for too long. He wanted the Russian to leave and go back to wherever it was he lived and be as far away from him and Kate as possible. But if refusing to let him in made him look suspicious what would happen?

"Sure," Jack replied. He hid his reluctance to the agreement.

Jack led the man to the main room in the hatch, glancing momentarily towards the armory. The hatch was silent. Even though he knew she was safe determination to be cautious and to succeed built a paranoia within him that almost made it difficult for him to walk. He was so afraid that he would make one mistake that would ruin his chances of keeping him and Kate safe.

"I don't think we've met," the Russian said, "are you new?"

"Yeah," said Jack, thinking quickly, "I was just recruited...by the Dharma Initiative."

The name was on everything from bags of potato chips to tooth paste so surely this Dharma Initiative was behind everything on the island; but when the Russian glanced towards him as though realizing something from what Jack said, he began to doubt his theory. He didn't try to change his story, he just waited to see how the Russian reacted.

"By the Dharma Initiative?" The Russian said. Jack nodded. "Are you here alone?"

Again hiding his relief Jack answered the Russian's question, trying not to think about what could go wrong. He needed to keep calm and continue acting as though this was a casual visit. He didn't need to give the man any reason to suspect that he really had a gun with him and was quickly thinking of a plan. If the man left the hatch he would probably go back to the Others' camp. There he could tell Ben the story of the man he met in the hatch, and Ben would recognize the man he described as Jack.

"I'm replacing someone," Jack said, "I just got here."

"How are you adjusting to the island?"

They entered the kitchen, and Jack took an empty glass from beside the sink. He noticed the Russian taking in all of the food and plates on the counter...much more supplies than what was needed for just one person. Wanting to draw his attention away from finding more suspicious details about the hatch Jack handed the Russian the glass of water.

"I'm doing okay," Jack said, "it's kind of hard, though. You know, being away from family and all."

Jack felt grief stab his heart, taking his mind away from his lies. He thought back to seeing his father in the coffin, where he held his hand...Absent-minded, he handed the Russian the glass of water.

"Thank you," the Russian said. He took a sip of water from the glass. "You must have known the consequences of being isolated away from the rest of the world."

"Yeah," Jack said, honest pain shaking his voice, "but still..."

"I understand," the Russian smiled at him, but even as Jack smiled in return he wondered if the man already knew Jack was lying. "I'm Mikhail, by the way."

Jack shook his hand. He noticed there was a walkie-talkie resting in a pouch connected to a belt loop on Mikhail's pants.

"I'm Christian," he lied.

"So the Dharma Initiative recruited you?" Mikhail said. Suddenly Jack felt sick. He remembered the gun he was carrying, and he began to reach for it. Something sparkled in Mikhail's eyes, and Jack was sure it was the feeling of triumph. "How about we stop with the lies and find out how smart you really are?"

But at the same moment the barrel of a gun appeared in front of Jack's eyes Jack had a gun pointed at Mikhail.

"Maybe I didn't give you enough credit," Mikhail said, his voice still thick with triumph, showing no sign that he was intimidated by the weapon in front of him. "Who are you, really? Perhaps you're really the Dharma Initiative, some final member that survived, somehow. Did you think by coming to this hatch you could-"

The sound of a gunshot erupted into the room. Jack didn't flinch as the bullet flew out of his own gun and pierced the skin of Mikhail's leg. He simply stared at the Russian as he lost his balance and struggled to not fall to the ground.

"Who sent you?" Jack demanded. Mikhail didn't reply, either from shock of being shot or from anger. "Who sent you?"

He tightened his grip around the trigger, threatening to shoot again.

"There really was a communication failure," Mikhail said. Sweat trickled down the Russian's face, and pain threatened to break through his attempts at not reacting to the gunshot. "It was by luck that I found you here." Jack believed him, but the fact that Mikhail wouldn't have hesitated to hurt him- or even Kate- kept the gun in his hands steady and ready to unleash another bullet. "Where is she?"

"Shut up," Jack ordered, controlling his sudden wish to shoot Mikhail again at mentioning Kate. His plan was coming together.

"It's really sweet that you want to protect her," Mikhail said, ignoring Jack's command, "but face it Jack, we-"

He didn't shoot Mikhail again- he couldn't be too injured for the next part of Jack's plan- but instead his fist slammed into Mikhail's face, and after a couple of punches Mikhail fell to the ground, unconscious. He stared down at the unconscious man on the floor, expecting to feel stranger for taking someone captive. Only anger fueled his emotions, and the only strange feeling he had was realizing that he didn't feel guilty. Mikhail would be okay, even if Jack had to fix his wounds; Jack had to ensure his and Kate's safety on this island. Or better yet, rescue.

Taking a deep breath he carefully took Mikhail's walkie-talkie. Before hitting the on button he closed his eyes, thinking about Kate, about this kiss, and how desperately they needed this plan to work. He hit the 'talk' button and static filled the air.

"Hello?" Came Ben's voice. "Mikhail?"

"I'm not him."

There was a pause. Jack thought about what must be going through Ben's mind and that he must be realizing that his friend was in danger. He almost emphasized with Ben then, but he couldn't help but to feel like he was getting revenge for all the times he made the same fear develop within Jack.

"Who is this?" Ben demanded.

Jack laughed, amused at Ben's confusion.

"You don't recognize my voice?" Jack said. He was reminded of the villains he had read about in comic books and novels as a kid. How ironic was it that those stories had come to life? And even more ironic was that there were no heroes and villains. They were both the same. In order to win you had to understand the other side, and sometimes you had to mock their way of life. It was all for the greater good, but there was was no black and white in this world.

"Jack?" Ben said. He sounded shocked and even...afraid? Suddenly Jack wasn't nervous. He actually felt excited about revealing his plan to Ben. "Where's Mikhail?"

"Here's the thing," Jack said, "right now I can take the bullet out of your friends leg, stop the bleeding, and he'll be fine in a couple of hours. Or he can either bleed to death or die when the wound gets infected. Your choice."

There was another pause and Jack could practically here Ben considering all of what Jack just told him. The silence took the form of fear, as much as Ben tried to hide that fear. Jack waited for Ben's reply, only keeping himself from smiling to remind himself that this was not who he was. This was for the greater good. He would not turn into the kind of person that Ben was.

"I'm thinking," Jack continued, "that I'll return your friend to your camp and fix his wound the best I can, if you let me and Kate leave this island."

"No Jack," Ben's quick reply startled him, harming his confidence, "the plan was that you do the surgery and you get to leave the island."

At first Jack began to panic at Ben's sudden return to authority, but then he realized the flaw in Ben's plan. This time, a satisfied smirk slipped across Jack's face.

"Sorry, but your friend Ethan broke my wrist."

He swore he heard Ben let out a cry of anger, but the pause of silence did not linger.

"That was almost a week ago, right?" Ben said. "There's still time...you can come here, stay in our camp, and make sure your wrist heals properly. Then you can do the surgery, and after you do, you can go home."

"Me and Kate," Jack corrected, "me and Kate would go home. But it doesn't matter, because I'm not agreeing to do the surgery."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you, Jack."

Ben didn't sound wounded at all. Jack stared at the walkie-talkie, annoyed by the failure of his plan. There was only one solution left.

"I'll kill Mikhail."

"Then so be it."

The line went dead; static filled the room. Jack was tempted to throw the walkie-talkie across the room, see it crash and break into pieces, exposing his anger. But it was his only connection to Ben's camp, and if he thought of another way out of this, it would be essential to keep the walkie-talkie in tact. He turned off the walkie-talkie and looked at Mikhail's unconscious body. He knew he wouldn't really kill him. Even though Mikhail was in alliance with his enemy, it still disturbed Jack to know Ben was so uncaring about the idea of one of his people dying.

Distant shouting caught his attention. Jack glanced down towards Mikhail. How long would it be before he woke up? But as the shouting continued Jack thought less about this, deciding to continue to be cautious, and ran towards Kate's screams. He opened the armory door to find Kate's face pale and eyes wide with tears. She threw her arms around him when she saw him. He held her as they both took in what was happening. One of Them was in the hatch, where they had hidden in hopes of finding safety. For a while that worked, but now they had been found. Jack's plan would have to work. If it didn't, where else could they hide?

"I heard a gunshot," Kate explained, stepping away from Jack.

"I'm okay," Jack said.

Frowning, Kate studied him.

"What's going on?" She demanded.

He glanced towards the kitchen where a man who would be, he assumed, unfamiliar to Kate lay unconscious with a bruised face and gunshot wound in his leg. Jack realized that he was using violence to ensure he got what he needed, but what he needed was to know that he and Kate would be safe. That's why he was going to do this. He wasn't exactly agreeing to the terms of Ben's deal, but he might be able to work out a new way to get them off the island.

"I'm going to their camp," he told her quietly.

Immediately her eyes lit up in protest.

"I have a plan," he said before she could argue, "I promise Kate, everything will be okay. I have to do this. We have to get off the island."

"Who's out there?" Kate inquired, ignoring Jack's request and glancing behind him.

"Kate, look at me!" Jack pleaded. Their eyes met. "Listen to me, I need you to promise me that you'll stay in the hatch. Everything will be okay, but I need to know that you're safe."

He could see the fear in Kate's eyes and the part of her conscience that was pleading with her to not agree. Silence passed by dangerously slow, and Jack continued to wonder how long Mikhail would stay unconscious.

"Kate-"

"Okay."

Her voice was only a whisper, weak with reluctance but understanding that this was something she had to do. Jack nodded and tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but that was faltered by the anxiety rushing through him. He didn't want to leave Kate here alone, but he had to do this.

Then Kate stepped towards him, and this time they kissed. He didn't want to leave her here alone; he didn't want there to be any opportunity that he would never see her again. But he had to do this, for them. Without saying anything Jack ended the kiss and stepped away, their eyes still connected and burning with a desperate wish for their lives to be normal.

"Keep this," Jack said, handing Kate the walkie-talkie.

She nodded; her eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Jack turned away before she could ask him not to go, and before he would change his mind.

Again he felt strange as he walked back to the kitchen. He felt like he was at the end of one part of his life and that another part of his life was beginning. When he saw Mikhail laying unconscious and injured on the floor, Jack knew his fear was actually reality. His life had changed, but now he had an opportunity to fix that.

**Author's Note: **I have decided that I will write chapters a little shorter than usual, but because of that updates will come more frequently. Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	24. The Deal

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-Four

**Chapter Twenty-Four:** The Deal

He was surprised by how much tension was in the air. He could feel it with every step he took, like he was breaking through ice with each step he took. Jack wondered how much the island was in alliance with the Others, and if so was aware of the situation one of its own was caught in. Mikhail walked a few inches ahead of him, each step taken by the command of the gun pointed at his head, but as much as Jack wanted to feel confident about the advantage he had he still felt intimidated. Like there was a reason he should still be worried. But he forced the thought away. The Others would want to do anything to get on of their own back just as Kate fought to rescue him. The plan would work.

"Just out of curiosity," Jack unconsciously tightened his grip on the gun at the sound of Mikhail's voice, "why are you so confident your plan will work? I'm flattered you think my people care so much about me."

Jack didn't answer him; he didn't even order him to be quiet. He simply kept his grip on the gun tight and continued to walk.

"Maybe you're confused," Mikhail continued, carrying on with his philosophical consideration in a conversation with himself, "if you knew me at all you would understand how little my people cared about me."

"Sorry to hear that," Jack remarked sarcastically. He decided it was an opportune moment to throw back a little verbal revenge.

"Or maybe I'm lying," Mikhail said, casually considering the options, "this island is unpredictable."

He knew Mikhail knew how he felt about his attempts at conversations, and he knew Mikhail would only be satisfied if he were to argue. Not to mention there was too much on Jack's mind to debate with Mikhail. They were now at least an hour away from the hatch, and only concern for Kate earned a place in his mind. Mikhail either gave up or postponed his conversation; they sank back into the silent tension of before. Refusing to let Mikhail's attempts at manipulating his thoughts work Jack worked on convincing himself that Kate was okay; but even as he knew nothing would happen to her experience taught him to be nervous. Kate's injury could get worse without being physically harmed again. Someone could find her there, someone would have known Mikhail was going to The Swan. And all through this he could spot the half-smile of satisfaction on Mikhail's face.

Two sudden burst of gunshots broke the tension between them; suddenly Jack felt awake with caution. Even Mikhail looked around, obviously as confused as Jack was.

"Did anyone know you were out here?" Jack demanded.

"They knew I wasn't home," Mikhail replied cooly. He seemed to be unconcerned with Jack and more focused on figuring out himself who was shooting at them. If the shooter wasn't an Other, then it had to be someone the Others didn't know of. Desmond or...Rousseau. He debated quickly rather to call out her name or not; secretly he would rather not have to meet her again. "It might help if you point the gun towards the person shooting at us."

He wasn't quite sure why running away hadn't crossed either of their minds yet. Maybe Jack was too in shock to realize that option, maybe Mikhail wasn't willing to admit to defeat.

"She stopped."

Jack opened his mouth to ask why Mikhail was so confident the shooter was a female, but he became aware that he was right. Only silence filled the jungle now. Silence followed by the sound of cautious footsteps. The barrel of a rifle poked through the trees and into the clearing they were in. Rousseau followed.

She was as haggard looking as Jack remembered: her hair lacked proper care and hung past her shoulders in dead curls, the same top she had been wearing weeks ago was being worn again, and the holes in the knees of her pants had grown. Her hand remained steady on the trigger of her rifle, her eyes giving no care to her appearance, only to her two targets. She took another step forward; her shoes could have fallen apart had there been much force on the single step. Jack looked at the gun that was hovering between him and Mikhail.

"Hello." Mikhail's greeting was all of sarcastic, amused, and the kind of tone Jack would rather him not speak with to someone who was pointing a gun at them.

A gunshot rang through the air. Jack fought to not flinch as Mikhail jumped to the side, hands raised in defeat though an amused smile slithered across his face. Rousseau jabbed her gun towards them, and Jack could see in her eyes that she would love nothing more than to kill Mikhail at that moment. He didn't relax, there was no doubt in his mind that her attention could shift to him at any moment. There must be some reason, he thought, as to why she was delaying the murder she so obviously craved to commit.

"Where are you going?" Rousseau demanded. Her voice was low and hoarse from lack of conversation for many years, yet she still had no struggle with mastering the authoritative tone that spoke from years of anticipation. She had been waiting for this moment. Possibly for sixteen years.

But Jack had a decision to make. Should he tell her the truth? If he lied would she some how catch his lie?

"He is taking me back to my people," Mikhail explained calmly, "and no, you are still not welcomed there."

Jack's face contorted into confusion. He glanced between the two of them, watching their conversation and trying to catch a clue as to what his fate would be.

There was another gunshot and Mikhail fell to the ground.

His heart raced, his eyes darted about trying to find a way out of this situation. Mind dancing, his thoughts flew from Mikhail laying on the ground, arm bleeding furiously, to Rousseau, who was paying no attention to him whatsoever. She stepped towards Mikhail, again causing the worn soles of her shoes to suffer. Even as Rousseau did not seemed to be concerned with Jack at all he still did not speak; he couldn't even figure out what he should say. And still he thought of Kate in the hatch, and he worried that somehow Rousseau knew she was there.

"Why are you taking him there?" Rousseau inquired quickly. She knelt down beside Mikhail and checked his pulse. "Answer me. How did you meet? How did you manage to not get yourself taken captive?"

Jack thought slowly as he fought for his heart rate to return to a normal speed. Everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks seemed to spin around in his mind like an out of control whirlpool of thoughts. He couldn't find an 'off' button to save himself before drowning.

"Answer me," Rousseau repeated, "or I'll assume you are actually on his side."

"I'm not on his side," his voice fled from his throat with surprising speed, and soon Jack found the frantic words to tell his story, "they took us captive, me and Kate. We escaped...I'm going back there because I need to know we're safe. They even have a boat, we could leave the island..."

He trailed off as Rousseau seemed unconcerned with this. Getting to her feet, Rousseau between to approach him as though she were in a trance, eyes wide with a hope he didn't recognize in her.

"While they held you captive did you see a girl?" Rousseau asked. She seemed to be lost in thoughts, in hope, as she spoke. "Sixteen years old?"

His heart beat began to speed up as he remembered the girl who talked to him while he was being held in the cage. She hadn't wanted to help him because she didn't want to get in trouble; her boyfriend would be coming home for dinner that night. Coming home...he stared at Rousseau, his eyes doing a terrible job of hiding the sudden alarm that was blinking in his mind. Did the girl not know of her mother? She might have even been raised by one of them...

Rousseau's hauntingly hopeful eyes reminded him to answer.

"Yes," he replied. Her eyes widened, if possible, with even more hope. Eyes wide like a child's, like someone who just discovered their missing child.

Her hands raised, trembling with inability to control her emotions, and she acted as though she were going to take his hands in hers. He simply stared back at her, and then took a step back, feeling uncomfortable. Rousseau may have found her missing daughter, but that didn't change the past. Rousseau looked at him blankly, taken aback as though she honestly thought they had been sharing that moment as friends.

She then dropped to the ground beside Mikhail, her demeanor changing completely. Working with such determination that he was afraid to interrupt, Rousseau took off her backpack and took out some strands of rope.

"I'll take him," she announced.

"No!" Jack felt like he had been hit in the face with disappointment, like hope had been ripped from him with such strength that he felt the effects physically. "No, I have to take him."

He knelt down beside Mikhail and looked and Rousseau. Beside him blood dripped from the unconscious Mikhail's arm to the ground. When Rousseau's eyes met him for a moment he thought he would lose his battle as her eyes suddenly turned wide and watery, reminding of him of her near-breakdown of happiness from moments before. How could he take her away from being able to see her daughter? But he knew he had to keep what was best for him and Kate close to mind; Rousseau wouldn't.

Kate...he hoped she was still safe. But time was passing quickly. Would she be okay on her own for more than a couple of hours? Of course she wouldn't. His eyes widened with horror and he suddenly felt sick. The computer.

"Rousseau, I need you to do something for me," Jack began urgently, realizing how much he was asking of her only as he spoke, "this is going to be a lot to take in, but I need you to listen, please. For all of our sakes." She didn't interrupt and he took a breath before going on, mind racing. "There's this place, a few miles west of where you took us captive. It's hard to describe, but you just have to look for a door with a swan painted on it." His heart fell as he realized there was no way Rousseau would be able to find the Swan in anytime near what he needed. "Go in there, go in the back. There's a computer there. Enter the numbers '4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42'. Press execute. Just please, do that for me. If not...well let's just say when we didn't before, it wasn't good."

Rousseau simply stared at him, and who could blame her? A look of curiosity passed her face and Jack felt uncomfortably once more; it was as though she knew something he did not, even if she was presumingly clueless.

"4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42," Rousseau recited calmly.

Jack nodded, holding his breath. Rousseau stood and left in silence. She didn't point out the impossibility of the task Jack just gave her or the absurdity of it. She simple stood, shoes gently shifting in the damp ground, her rifle resting against her side. He and Mikhail were left with the assumption Rousseau either wasn't the one to complain or had too much pride to let such a daunting task intimidate her. Sighing, Jack let the tension and panic of the last few moments leave him before turning back to Mikhail. As his eyes fell on the man's wound he faced new difficulties.

It was in his nature to immediately reach out to people, and he thought twice before considering taking Mikhail to the other side of the island without paying one moment of attention to his injury. What settled his decision was logic: if Mikhail was returning injured and possibly barely alive from lack of blood, would he be worth his and Kate's freedom from the island? But even as he thought of the facts he shuddered and shook his head, and in a mixture of sincere concern and determination to not become someone who would think and act like that, his bag slid from his shoulders and he looked for the supplies that would help him clean Mikhail's wound.

He felt alone as he took out washcloth and began applying pressure to the wound, and he would have chosen even those coworkers who had at times annoyed him rather than the silence of the jungle. Of course the threat of the monster still loomed overhead, and he kept a constant eye out for anymore visitors.

_Physically and emotionally drained from his journey away from home, Jack felt relieved to be in a welcoming setting as he stepped into the doorway of his silent home. He placed his bags down- he would unpack latter- and walked into the kitchen, smiling to himself. He didn't need Sarah. He had a successful career, a home, and he did have friends. Jack glanced towards the vacant spot on his counter. His fish and Vincent the dog were staying with Mark. He didn't need Sarah, and he would repeat that to himself every night. _

_The phone rang before he could even pick it up to check for messages. Swiping the telephone off the receiver, Jack answered as he looked in the refrigerator for bottled water and whatever kind of food he could find._

_"Hello?" He asked._

_"Jack?" A tired but excited voice replied. Julia. "I thought you might be back."_

_He glanced towards to the clock on the microwave. It was dark outside, but he had forgotten how late it was._

_"It's almost eleven," he said and joked, "you couldn't wait until morning?"_

_"I just wanted to see how you were doing."_

_Jack thought for a moment, appreciating her concern but at the same time he found he had an agenda of his own. He had been gone for nearly a week. How much had changed in his life since then?_

_"How is he?" Jack asked quietly. A tiny moment of silence past between them, slipping through at the mention of the one person that connected them._

_"He's..." Julia hesitated. Her enthusiasm was gone; sympathy rose in the soft tone of her voice. "These things take time, Jack. You'll just...you'll have to give him time._

_His eyes closed, his hand grasped the phone tightly, but he had long ago learned that nothing would relieve him of this stress and everything they were all being put through. The argument he wanted to make had been pointed out too many times, and if he had to say it again he might find himself on the verge of giving up. Time...maybe he should just convince himself that Julia was right._

_"Jack, the reason I called..." she trailed off and when it was obvious whatever the reason was was difficult for her, he made an attempt at comic relief._

_"And here I was thinking you just cared about me."_

_A small smile slipped across his face, and on the other line Julia gave out a small laugh._

_"I'm going back to Australia, Jack." _

_There was a long pause. He could only stand there, not understanding. Wasn't it she who just told him they needed time? Why, then, would she give up?_

_"I don't understand..."_

_"Not right away," Julia said quickly but to no effect, "I do have a job...I have a life there Jack, and I really don't mean to sound rude, but I can't interrupt it any longer." He still couldn't reply. When she agreed to come she made it sound like there would be no problem, like there were no commitments she would have to put aside. He had never considered that she might not have had a long-term stay in mind. Now he wasn't sure what to do, and the idea of being left alone to deal with this and figure out what he needed to do terrified him. "I've enjoyed staying here, honestly. It's been great seeing you again, but I can't stay forever." She paused shortly, as though waiting for him to respond. He didn't. "You knew that right?"_

_"Yeah," Jack said, stumbling over his words like a child caught not paying attention, "I just never really thought...you're giving up on him, aren't you?"_

_There was a sound like she might have let out a sad sigh._

_"This isn't in my control," she said. He wasn't sure if she meant leaving her own life or his father's problems. "We'll talk about this in the morning. You should get some sleep."_

_He thought quickly for a retort that would justify the frustration and how degrading her excuse was, that it was obvious she didn't even know how to handle her own problems. Again he felt like a child, ready to stomp out of the room and slam the door just to show how angry he was._

_"I'm glad you got home safely. Goodnight."_

_Her last words were spoken with a tone so soft and the certainty of what she had told him was so great that he flung the phone across the room. Listening to the telephone slide across the living room carpet, Jack closed his eyes and tried to make sense out of what Julia told him. She hadn't said it directly, but it was obvious she was giving up. And after all of her telling him not to do just that...he opened his eyes wearily, blinked, and looked around the kitchen. But that wasn't all about what Juliet said that bothered him. Somehow, he got the sense that she was hiding something from him. _

Jack sighed and looked down at the unconscious Mikhail. The island around him was awake with life, all of it with eyes watching him. He felt like a character in a play, and everything he was doing was to achieve a goal that ultimately had been decided by someone else. Not fate, exactly, but someone- maybe Ben- who was piecing together mind games and carefully plotting each step in time to move him towards something they wanted. But as sick of it as he was, as much as he did not want to go back to the Others' camp, he had to. He and Kate had to get off this island.

"They'll kill you."

Gasping a little in surprise, Jack turned in shock to see Mikhail stirring awake. Even barely conscious a grin was on his face and confidence filled Mikhail's voice.

"There will be no trade..."

"Stop talking," Jack demanded. He grabbed a bottle of water, opened it, and titled the cool liquid into Mikhail's throat. The water leaked back out of his mouth like rising streams of foam. "Is there a place nearby we can go? Somewhere I can get in touch with your people?" Mikhail didn't answer him. "I know about the walkie-talkie. I know you can communicate across the island. Where can we go?"

Mikhail's face was fading into a ghostly pale color; an equally as pale arm reached up and examined the cloth tide around his wound.

"Answer me!"

Eyes rolling towards Jack, his glare alone implied his hatred towards Jack. He didn't care.

"The Flame," Mikhail replied. He sounded weaker now, defeated at Jack's demand for answers. "West of here..."

A stream of painful coughing prevented him from giving further explanation, and Jack thought quickly to analyze what he was told and what he needed to know.

"Is it closer to the beach," Jack began, "or further into the jungle?"

"Jungle..."

But even so what were the chances that he would actually be able to find this place, especially considering Mikhail's condition? He didn't want to have to rely his decision on faith, but it seemed as though with every decision he was learning a little more about his faith and his hopes that someone out there understood the need for something good to happen to them. For things to finally start turning around. Maybe that had been his problem all along. He needed to have faith, he needed to simply be able to hope for the best.

"I'm going to help you walk, okay?" Jack told Mikhail.

Mikhail neither offered permission nor protested, but Jack wasn't waiting for either. He reached down and gently took Mikhail's injured arm. A surprisingly loud gasp of pain escaped Mikhail, and as demonic as it sounded, that sign of weakness gave Jack more strength and belief in his faith.

----

She was conscious of the fact that she felt dizzy, and this might or might not be related to her head injury. Perhaps it was simply her disliking of tight spaces and being trapped. Kate stepped away from one of the rows of weapons and scanned the ceiling for the umpteenth time, convinced that a vent she could escape through would magically appeared. There still was none. When she saw Jack again she wouldn't hesitate to manipulate him into feeling guilty for what he did, demanding to know why he would think this was a good idea when he should have known of this fear of hers. Kate side and rest her back against a bare section of one a wall. Or maybe he couldn't have known, because she wasn't sure if she had even told him. Now he was going back across the island, right back into the hands of the people who he escaped captivity from.

Closing her eyes and crossing her arms, Kate took in the situation she was in and what had happened that day. Every time their relationship seemed okay something happened to prevent them from being together. Maybe they weren't supposed to be together...

Her head jerked towards the door. Surely she wasn't mistaking the sound of footsteps echoing across the wooden floor of The Swan. She glanced down towards the walkie-talkie in her hands; had Jack not been able to call her back? She wasn't sure what to do, if she should provoke attention from whomever had entered the apartment. What if it was an Other? But what if this person could help her? She had only listened to Jack because he was right, but at the same time staying behind might guarantee her more hope of being able to escape, catch up to him, and stop him from going. She knew what she was risking, but what Jack was risking by going to Their camp was greater. She wasn't even supposed to be here right now...she should be in jail. Jack was innocent in all this, he had family, friends, and a life to go back to.

Selecting a rifle from the collection of weapons, Kate took a deep breath and faced the door.

"Hey!" She called, holding her rifle close to her and pointing it towards the door. "Someone help me! I hear you!"

She held her breath and listened carefully for a response. Then, from the dim light underneath the doorway a set of feet appeared.

"Hey," Kate said to the person, "can you get me out of here? Please?"

"What is the combination?"

Her heart stopped. That was Rousseau's voice...

"I'll let you out," Rousseau said. The angry, demanding tone of her voice Kate was so used to hearing seemed inexistent. Rousseau spoke honestly. "What is the combination?"

Suddenly her hear regained rhythm, and Kate began panicking.

"How did you find this place?" Kate inquired. "What are you doing here?"

She wanted to ask about Jack, but she kept silent. If Rousseau was lying, if she had some agenda that Kate did not know of, she didn't want her knowing where Jack was.

"Your friend sent me."

Kate tried to reply, but her voice became caught in her throat. Her eyes closed in relief, and Kate almost forgot to continue to interrogate Rousseau.

"He's okay?" She asked.

"Yes," Rousseau replied unemotionally. "The Russian he was with was shot. The Other."

The relief she had taken so carefully to heart, that had given her hope, was suddenly gone.

"By who?" Kate demanded.

"Me."

Somehow this made her feel better. Was Rousseau implying that she really was on her and Jack's side? In the big picture, maybe they really were on the same side. They were in an alliance against the Others, fighting for the same cause. Kate told her the combination.

Light crept into the room as Rousseau pushed the door open. Kate stepped back; her gun didn't leave her side, and she moved quickly out of the armory, hoping Rousseau would never see the weapons inside. Even if they were on the same side, Kate wasn't sure if she trusted her with knowing their secrets.

"Why did Jack send you here?" Kate said. She led Rousseau away from the armory, noticing the woman glancing back towards the closed door. She would have to change the combination as soon as possible.

"Something about a computer," Rousseau replied.

She was looking around the room, obviously trying to hide her awe-struck reaction to the apartment with a sense of curiosity. Kate watched her for a moment, suddenly interested in Rousseau's reaction. After living being stranded on an island for sixteen years being introduced to a place like this would be overwhelming for her...maybe Kate would find that Rousseau wouldn't even be able to handle the thought. Guilt began to catch up to her. Had it been selfish of her and Jack to keep this place secret from Rousseau? She watched as Rousseau eyed the records that would be closer to her time than Kate's; she thought of Rousseau hold her and Jack captive. Surely their decision was understandable.

Rousseau then looked to her, and Kate remembered to explain about the computer.

"It's nothing to get excited about," she said, beginning to walk towards the computer room, "it doesn't have Internet or anything on it. You just have to enter a code every 108 minutes."

"Why?" Rousseau inquired.

Kate smiled awkwardly.

"We're not exactly sure," she admitted, "but once we almost weren't able to and well...something does happen when the code's not entered."

Suddenly Rousseau stopped, and Kate realized this was the signal that they had arrived at the computer room. Her eyes wondered towards Rousseau, again curious of her reaction. This time Rousseau couldn't hide her astonishment. A stunned, almost amused, formed on Rousseau's face; she began to step into the room. Kate followed, watching as Rousseau examined the equipment.

"Is this how far science has advanced?" Rousseau asked.

A smile appeared on Kate's face, surprising both of them.

"No, we're way beyond this," Kate said, "it's pretty amazing."

Rousseau's eyes shifted from each piece of computer equipment, eyes sparkling at the thought of such an advancement in science. She considered all Rousseau had missed out on and everything she didn't know about the world. Sixteen years...

Kate crossed over to the computer and entered in the code. If Rousseau were to see the world now she would be in complete shock. Perhaps she would even prefer the island to the world they lived in now: not only were there advancements in science but now that it was known how to achieve these advancements, it was nothing but a fight for power and money. More and more advanced technology.

"He told me he was going to go to Them to trade the Russian for your freedom," Rousseau said; her eyes never left the compute equipment, "do you think that will work?"

She considered that Rousseau hadn't asked her about the Others or their time in captivity. Exactly how much did Rousseau know about Them? Had she ever seen Them before? Maybe she knew exactly where Jack was going.

"Jack seems to think it will," Kate replied, "maybe it will."

"I would like to help."

Taken aback by Rousseau's sudden offer, Kate only stared, not understanding, as she turned to her. She thought she didn't understand, that Rousseau couldn't be offering to help them, but again Kate found no reason to believe she wasn't being honest.

"I imagine you do not like him being out there alone," Rousseau went on. Kate didn't admit that she was right, but her silence might have been a hint. "I can help you stop him. These people...he will not be able to simply walk into their camp."

Kate felt sick. She knew she wanted to take up Rousseau's offer; she wanted to stop Jack. But what was she getting into? Maybe Jack was fine, maybe he would change his mind and come back on his own...but she remembered how determined he was before he left. He had single-handedly taken the Other captive and planned this out all on his own. Jack wouldn't come back, and being out there, probably not very sure of where he was going, was just as dangerous as Kate not staying inside because of her head injury.

"Okay."

Her mouth felt dry and the sick feeling in her stomach grew into an unsteady feeling of guilt. Already she wanted to apologize for going against her word, for breaking her and Jack's trust. She thought about the kiss and their relationship, and how much that relationship depended on trust. But their relationship ran just as much on caring about each other and being willing to do all they could to protect the other. She would have to hope that he would understand.

----

He shifted his weight so that he fell back on his right leg; his grip on Mikhail's shoulder nearly faltered. Blinking in the sun, Jack stood staring at the house and small farm in front of him. The dirt of the jungle gave away to the rough ground of a miniature-farm: cattle grazed in a closed-off section of the farm. From somewhere nearby a cat meowed. The sights were so unfamiliar, a part of the world Jack hadn't even thought about since crashing on the island.

"If you don't mind," Mikhail said, fighting the weakness of his voice, "Nadia needs to be fed."

Jack looked at him, unsure what to think.

"My cat," Mikhail explained.

Nodding, Jack ignored the annoyed look on Mikhail's face. He began to walk forward, deciding to block the animals out of mind. Should he really be surprised after all he'd seen? But then something caught his eye, something he had thought about but never expected to see on the island: a satellite dish. A means of communication. The dish stood on top of the small house, apparently confident that the island's isolation and the jungle around the home wouldn't interfere with its ability to retrieve a signal. His eyes scanned the roof of the house as Mikhail led him inside; Jack took note of every detail of the satellite dish. Despite its confidence the dish looked old, as though it had fought as many battles as some of the people on the island themselves had fought. Rusty and exhausted the dish stood, and something inside him stirred. He could see himself being able to get a signal, being able to connect with the outside world. Rescue was close. He could feel it.

Stepping inside the house was like stepping into The Swan for the first time, and again Jack wondered how he could still be so shocked by every new island mystery. The living room looked like an adjacent addition to a warehouse: sets of tables, chairs, and couches stood before a hallway leading into what did look like the back of some sort of warehouse. A coffee table sat in front of a slightly-torn sofa, a lamp accompanied the classically decorated home, sans a television. And Jack had even expected for there to be a television.

Books were piled into a bookshelf next to the entranceway into the back of the house. The selection didn't look as impressive in size as the one in The Swan; in fact, the entire layout of this station looked as though it had been decorated by the owner personally rather than by a company. It was as though Mikhail had chosen to move into where he worked.

"Over there," Mikhail said, "in the drawer of the coffee table."

Jack glanced towards him, immediately deciding Mikhail could not be trusted. Even injured, judging from his unharmed confidence he wouldn't doubt that Mikhail might be able to successfully escape.

"You get it," Jack instructed, nodding towards the coffee table.

Mikhail's eyes fell on him coldly, and Jack knew he had been right to not trust him. Nevertheless Mikhail obeyed. The drawer to the coffee table slid but only to reveal an empty compartment. Frowning, Jack listened as what sounded like some hidden compartment opened. Mikhail brought out a walkie-talkie.

"Looks like I'll have to find a new hiding place," Mikhail replied, thrusting the walkie-talkie towards Jack with an agitated smirk on his face.

Jack ignored him and instead concentrated on what he needed to do. Even before getting in touch with the Others, even before possibly seeing if he could get a signal from elsewhere, he needed to call Kate. He pressed the 'talk-button', and kept in mind that any number of radios across the island might be able to hear their conversation.

"Kate?"

He listened to the static, heart beginning to pound desperately as he awaited her voice.

"Jack?" He smiled in relief, ignoring that Mikhail was watching him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," thoughts swirled in his head as he tried to catch one, deciding on what needed to be said. He realized he shouldn't linger before making the deal with the Others. "I can't talk long. I just need to know that you're okay."

There was a hesitant pause and in that moment he began to panic, considering all that could have happened, all that could have gone wrong. Never considering that she was hesitating because she was lying to him.

"Yeah," she replied at last, "I'm fine."

A smile broke into his sweaty, worried expression.

"I'll see you again soon, okay?" He said. "But listen to me, when I hang up I need you to turn off the walkie-talkie. Promise me you will."

Another pause went by, as though she didn't understand. He was about to repeat his request when she replied:

"Okay, I will."

She sounded uncertain and worried, but Jack ignored this. He needed to get in touch with the Others.

"I'll see you soon," he said again, and hung up.

He stared at the phone, their conversation ringing in his ears as he considered the extraordinary fact that he just had a conversation over a phone with Kate. And she was okay. Everything was going according to plan; everything would work out perfectly.

"How sweat," Mikhail smirked.

Jack turned to him, anger flooding back to him easily. He pressed the talk button again, hoping Kate would keep her promise. If all of the island's communication systems were connected then he needed to make sure that Kate couldn't be found.

"Ben?" Jack demanded. "I know you're there. Talk to me."

"Mikhail?" Ben's voice floated across the airway, perplexed and seeming oblivious to who he was really talking to.

"You don't even recognize me?" Jack said. Amusement drew a laugh from his throat as he waited for Ben's reply.

"Jack?" Dread was detectable in Ben's voice, and Jack grinned as he realized Ben must have figured out what was going on.

"I'm insulted," Jack replied, "I thought I was important to your people. How can you forget me so easily?"

A sound that might have been a sigh responded. He didn't feel the satisfaction he wanted from his quick-wit when Ben answered:

"What is it you're calling about, Jack?"

His heart fell slightly, but Jack reminded himself that this was about getting him and Kate off the island, not revenge. Gathering his final thoughts, Jack verbalized the outline of the plan that had been in his mind all afternoon.

"I have your man," Jack said, "he's been shot in the arm. He's in my hands."

"You want to make a trade."

His heart tilted further towards uncertainty without permission, his fear of failure threatening his potential success. He still had an upper-hand, Jack reminded himself. Their was no reason to be intimidated.

"Yes," Jack replied, mustering all the confidence he could, "I want your word that if I give Mikhail back to you then you will leave me and Kate alone. You'll let us off the island."

A snort was not the reaction he had been expecting; Jack had to fight to once again not feel intimidated when Ben spoke with an obvious hint that he was not at all threatened by Jack.

"And what makes you think Mikhail is worth that much?" Ben replied.

Out of curiosity Jack glanced towards Mikhail. Upon seeing the man's stern and offended reaction and catching a glimpse of the dried blood covering his arm, Jack almost felt sorry for the man.

"If you really want freedom," Ben continued, "you should agree to do the surgery. I told you Jack, save my life and I'll let you off this island."

"And Kate?" Jack demanded before he could stop himself. He realized that unconsciously he was considering taking Ben's deal, dropping his own plan altogether. And maybe he should. As long as he received the answer he wanted to hear.

"Sure," Ben replied, as simply as though Jack was asking for extra syrup on his sundae. "If you think she is as determined as you are to leave this island."

Jack's face contorted into confusion, but before he could inquire he felt something sharp hit his head. The confusion remained on his face, permanently glued there by a sudden weakness as he lost his balance and stumbled towards the floor. A second blow to the head sent him crumbling to the ground. Someone screamed as his eyes momentarily fluttered closed; when he opened them again, fighting the pain that was rushing to his skull, he looked up to see a blurry form of Kate, hands restrained by rope. He looked around desperately to find his attacker, all the while not understanding. Why was Kate here? How did someone know where he was?

His eyes landed on Rousseau. She had the walkie-talkie in her hands.

"Who is this?" Ben demanded over the static. "Jack? What happened?"

His vision spun as he fought to keep his eyes focused on Kate. She didn't appear hurt aside from her bound hands. His heart was pounding, out of his control and causing him to gasps in pain and shock. Determined to fight back, Jack tried to pick himself off the floor, but Rousseau was already talking to Ben. She was reaching in her backpack and pulling out a syringe. Jack recalled painfully how she was easily able to knock him out with whatever that syringe held.

"This is Danielle Rousseau," she announced over the phone.

There was a long pause, and Jack thought that time would never continue. His hand remained on the couch, frozen as he became intent on finding out what would happen next.

"Why are you here?" Ben asked. He spoke calmly, as well as Jack could understand in his weary state of mind, as though he was holding himself back from responding with what he really wanted to say.

"I'm here with two people who have escaped from you," Rousseau- Danielle- replied, "you know who I mean."

"How do I know you're not lying?" Ben inquired.

Jack looked towards Kate, who was desperately wanting to fight back but at the same time her eyes were glancing from Jack to the syringe in Rousseau's hand.

"State your name," Rousseau instructed.

He glanced at her, confused, but then understood that she was speaking to Kate. Kate stared at her and then looked at Jack, uncertain of what to do.

"Tell him who you are!" Rousseau shouted.

Looking shaken, physically harmed by Rousseau's shouting, Kate spoke into the walkie-talkie.

"Kate," she stuttered, voice trembling madly with rage and fear. She glanced apologetically towards Jack.

His eyes softened into concern, and he hoped for her to understand that it wasn't she who he was angry with. He tried to comprehend all that was going on, why Rousseau was doing this. In seconds he received his answer when Rousseau spoke again to Ben:

"I have the people you are looking for with me. Now I want my daughter back."

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! I'm so sorry for the wait. I warned that while I'm in school I might not be able to update as much as I could during the summer, and it looks like that's how it will be. I'm really sorry about this, and I appreciate those who are still sticking with the story. If you're not, I understand your impatience. Or maybe you just don't like the story. Again, I'm sorry for the wait for new chapters.

Until next time...

October Sky


	25. An Alternative Plan

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-Five

**Chapter Twenty-Five: **An Alternative Plan

The door to the hut kicked open. Through the thin blindfold she could see a ray of light peering into the room. Her hands instinctively fought against the ropes that bound her, but they only clawed deeper into her wrist. She gasped loudly, a momentary panic attack coming over her. Jack was somewhere nearby, but she couldn't see him; she wasn't even sure if it was his breath she heard beside her.

"Hello Danielle," Kate held her breath before another gasp of air could leave her. She didn't recognize the voice, but she was certain that this was the voice of Ben, the man who would probably prefer to keep Jack alive over herself. The man who wasn't afraid to call a woman he hadn't seen in sixteen years, the mother of the child he'd kidnapped, by her first name.

A shiver shot up her spine; she could feel eyes watching her and she knew Ben had seen her and Jack. She tried to see through the blindfold, like she had been able to see the light, but all she saw was darkness. Even the sunlight drifted away.

"I know what you have in mind," Ben said- a heavy footstep landed on the floor as he took a step towards them; Kate froze, "but you have to consider if this is what's best for Alex."

"I know what's best for my daughter," Rousseau replied harshly, "let me have her back or I'll let them go."

Ben laughed. It was a small chuckle that made it evident he wasn't intimidated at all by her threat. The laugh seemed to float through the room until reaching Kate's ears and she fought to keep still, desperate to break from her binds and fight back. But something told her she didn't need to draw tension to herself right now. She needed to listen while the attention was being taken off her and Jack. She needed to think of a way out of this.

"Some may say that false hope is worse than having no hope at all," Ben said, "don't give them false hope. They're coming with us. After all, that's what the doctor wanted. Right, Jack?"

Kate held her breath, thinking that Jack may actually reply. No sound came, but she was certain she could feel the anger vibrating off of him; she could see his eyes glaring at Ben. But that's when Kate realized: this was what Jack wanted. He didn't mean for things to turn out this violently, but he wanted to go back to the Others camp. And he hadn't wanted her to be involved at all. Now, thanks to her insisting on interrupting his plan, not trusting him, they were in more trouble than before.

"I want my daughter," Rousseau stated. Kate wondered if Rousseau's gun wasn't even pointed at her two hostages now but at Ben. But there was always Mikhail...was he still there, or had he gone to the team of Others who surely came to help Ben?

"I'll let you see your daughter," Ben said after a short pause of silence, "and then you can decide what's best for her."

Suddenly she heard Jack gasp in pain. Her head snapped towards him; she tried to see him through the darkness. A similar gasp of pain escaped her before she knew what was happening- something sharp dug into her arm. Then she neither felt nor saw anything.

----

She woke up on a cold floor. Water was dripping on her head. Groaning she rolled over, unwillingly allowing the dripping water to fall into her mouth. The water tasted of thick salt. She spat the water onto the floor, coughing as more of the sour liquid escaped into her lungs. Her eyes were open but she could only see darkness; when she tried to reach up she found that her hands were no longer bound. She tore the blindfold off of her and scrambled away from the dripping water, immediately taking in her surroundings: she was in a room that seemed to stretch out forever in darkness ahead of her, a wooden bench sat on a concrete floor nearby. Tiles lined rusted walls; the entire place looked as though it had been dying for years. And Jack lay in a corner.

She rushed to his side, carefully turning him over and pulling the blindfold away from his eyes. He was unconscious.

"Jack?" She asked, concern quickly being replaced with panic. "Jack?"

His eyes looked as though someone had glued them shut. He was too lost in a world too far away to hear her. She reached to help him sit up, wincing at how limp his arms felt.

"Don't."

Kate turned at the feminine voice. A blonde woman was standing a dozen feet away from her, dressed in jeans in a white blouse.

"What did you do to him?" Kate demanded. She turned back to Jack as she awaited her answer; her hands found a bump from where Rousseau hit him on the back of the head.

"He's been sedated," the woman replied. She didn't sound like she was enjoying the news she had to share, or even that she cared. But there was still something about her voice that Kate didn't like. Her voice was too calm, too uncaring. "He needs the rest."

"Rest?" Kate exclaimed. "You sedated him! What else did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me!" This time Kate stood up and began walking towards the woman. "Where are we? How long have we been here?" She received no answer; the woman only gazed at her as she approached, curious. "Where are we?"

She swung out a fist.

"Stop!" The woman cried, loud enough and frightened enough to make Kate drop her arm. "There's glass."

She held out her hands and set them on an invisible wall that divided the room. Their eyes met, and Kate really took in the woman's appearance for the first time, trying to determine what her place with the Others was. However long her stay on the island had been, there seemed to be no effect on the woman: there wasn't a trace of dirt on her hands, her hair combed and her clothes free of winkles. Only her shoes seemed worn: the laces had been permanently tanned with dirt, the once-white tennis-shoes were badge. Traces of sand were caught beneath the spikes on the bottom of the shoes.

"I'm Juliet," the woman replied. Again that calm voice; her personality seemed to suggest that she had no concerned for Kate or Jack, or anything the Others were doing on the island. But she looked tired of it, exhausted from the kidnappings and whatever else went on to the point where she was now being pushed along to follow orders. Simply tell her to do something and she would obey as easily as a small pebble being kicked along pavement.

"Where are we?" Kate said again, agreeing to be calm for awhile. "The water that's dripping from the pipes, it's saltwater. We're not...underwater somewhere, are we?"

A small smile crept across Juliet's lips, pleased to see that Kate had guessed correctly. Kate remained silent, wondering how it was that she could be underwater when she could remember nothing of a boat, nothing of being on an ocean and transported to some place underwater. What she did understand was that for the moment Juliet was answering her questions.

"What's going to happen to us?" She looked Juliet in the eye and was certain she would answer when a soft groan drew their attention away. They both looked towards Jack.

She fell to the floor at his side, placing a hand on his arm as he came to, eyelids attempting to flutter open and wincing in pain. Juliet appeared next to her and assisted her in helping him sit up. At last Jack managed to fight whatever pain he had succumbed to; his eyes blinked open.

"You were unconscious-"

"You were sedated," Kate corrected, glaring at Juliet before turning back to Jack, face melting into sympathy.

"You do realize that I won't be able to do the surgery if I'm unconscious?" Jack said. His voice was hoarse and raspy. Juliet handed him a bottle of water.

Ignoring him, Juliet stood up and headed for the exit, which Kate found to be the faint outline of a door.

"Where are you going?" She demanded, getting to her feet.

Again Juliet ignored them, leaving the room as she pushed the wall open to reveal the hidden pathway. Kate raced to try and catch the door before it closed. A dark, damp pathway that was what her idea of a dungeon looked like gazed back at her sympathetically before the door slammed in her face. Forced to admit to defeat, Kate looked down to the ground, eyes closing. Suddenly she felt tired. She walked back to Jack and sat on the floor beside him, tilting her head towards him. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the ground as though trying to see his reflection through the concrete floors.

"You just had to interfere."

His words managed to come alive as he spoke, his raspy voice soon spitting out anger. She stared at him, admitting than an accusation wasn't what she expecting to hear from her. Had this been the last straw, the one last obstacle that would tear their friendship apart?

"I was worried about you," she stated, making it clear how offended she'd been by his accusation, "I had to stop you."

"I was fine-"

"Did you really think it would be that easy?"

He turned to her then, and she could feel his cold gaze hiding behind the pain and exhaustion in his eyes. Worse, she could see the flames dancing in the darkness of his eyes, the disappointment and hatred he felt towards her so easily jumping over the wall of emotions she had learned how to read.

"Yeah, it would have been that easy."

He looked away from her as though ashamed. His eyes lingered in the empty space in front of, not closing despite how obviously tired he was. Then her own eyes diverted to the floor; his effort at brewing guilt worked. But she didn't regret wanting to know that he was safe, that he was conquering some insane plan of his alone.

"Well we're here now," she said, "and we have to deal with that. Let's just stop blaming each other and find a way out of here."

His eyes spun back around to her in an instant, flashing hot flames of anger that danced higher and higher as his voice rose.

"Don't you understand?" His voice had come to a shout, echoing against the tiled, rotting, walls. "I have to do this! It's the only way to get us out of here!"

"How do you know that?" Kate shot, her voice suddenly rising to match his tone. "Do you really think that these people stay true to their word? They've kidnapped us, Jack! Again!"

"Because we were stupid enough to let them!"

They stared at each other and for a moment Kate was confused. She didn't recognize Jack in any of these words, in the anger that boiled in his voice and eyes. Or was this who he really was; had he been holding back this anger since the day they met?

"Well you got what you wanted," she said, lowering her voice though the disgust in her tone never left. Of anything that disgust grew, growing thicker as her voice fell to normal volume. "Did you hear Ben?" He didn't answer, but she felt his eyes drift away as she looked to the ground. A moment of silence passed. "Are you going to do the surgery?"

She had waited, sounding like a child who thought waiting to ask for a favor after a long stream of begging would make their chances of getting what they wanted better. An unhealthy amount of bitterness was still in Jack's tone when he spoke.

"Yes."

When her eyes traveled up to him this time she gazed at him, pleading for him to change his mind. But he didn't look at her. Not until a moment later, when finally he seemed to gather his emotions behind the wall that shielded her from him until just now.

"Your head," he said. He looked at her, anger fading from his eyes as well. But she could still see traces of what had been there before, disappointment and anger that would never go away.

She knew he was talking about the concussion.

"I'm fine," she said, not sure if she were lying or not.

"Let me see-"

"Jack."

They both looked up to see Juliet standing in the door- the dungeon-like passage behind it could be seen.

"Ben wants to talk to you," Juliet explained.

"He can talk to me here."

He turned back to Kate; she winced as she felt his hands brush against the bump that was still on the back of her hand.

"Jack."

Jack sighed; they both looked to Juliet. She was holding a hood and a pair of handcuffs. Kate looked to Jack, who looked at the floor. He stood up and she watched as he walked to Juliet, diverting her eyes to the floor as he was bound and as the hood fell over his head. Her eyes stayed on the floor as she listened to the door shut quietly and the footsteps echo in the dark hallway, almost afraid to think of where those hallways could lead to.

----

He recognized his surroundings immediately. His hands were unbound first, then the bag was ripped off of his head. He was staring at a doctor's office. Sinks, cabinets, medical equipment, a cot. And Ben standing there, smiling.

"I thought we could look over these x-rays," Ben said, "decide how quickly the surgery should be done."

His mouth opened, tried to answer Ben, but all that came out was:

"We're in a doctor's office."

Ben laughed.

"You know we have the capable of taking x-rays," he said, "where do you expect us to keep are patients?"

"In cages?"

Ben's amused demeanor died, and the situation of captor versus captive drew thick tension into the room. He didn't know what Ben expected, if the man thought that somehow they would become friends if Jack agreed to be his doctor and do the surgery.

Ben turned from him, gazing towards the wall in thoughtful silence. Jack watched him think, not certain what to believe when he turned around. His captor's eyes watched him, studying him, looking for something in Jack's eyes. Loyalty.

"There are different arrangements we could make for you and Kate," Ben began, not yet sounding confident, "you could come live in the village, with us."

He couldn't begin to picture life with the Others. Would they eventually be asked to help kidnap people? The tiny houses, the home-away-from-home appeal of the Others' village revealed a secret so deathly, so sick, that it was incomprehensible. They would move into this society and be shoved back into a type of normalcy: electricity, kitchens, the standard house with picture frames and bookshelves. Like the hatch, except this would supposedly be a true home. Then they would come back to this island and be reminded who the Others really were, and that the houses, the clothes, the paved pathways was all an act. And an act for who? Some higher force? A government, maybe, they were trying to impress? Or was it all to fool themselves, to make themselves think they were actually normal people.

They weren't normal people, and Jack refused to become one of them.

"We're leaving this island," Jack announced, "and don't you dare say anything to her-"

"Leave this island and go where?" Ben challenged. Jack unwillingly caught his eye; he tensed a little under the man's gaze, subjected to those curious eyes just searching for the button to push to bring him to defeat. "She's on the run from the government."

"At least the government won't kill her. At least the government won't-"

"No, they'll just throw her in prison," a ghost of a smile danced across Ben's face; Jack was sure that inside Ben was certain he had won. "Take the twenty-three thousand for themselves. Or who knows. Maybe they'll give the money to you."

His head tilted slightly in confusion, slightly in awe because he understood. Even though he didn't want to. Twenty-three thousand. That must be how much Kate was worth, and there were millions on the watch, looking for her, desperate to get their hands on just a percentage of that money.

"Twenty-three thousand dollars," Ben said again, his tone mimicking the awe-struck appearance of Jack. "It makes you wonder what she did. Twenty-three thousand dollars...she didn't just still candy from a gas station. Not that I don't think that's a crime."

What Jack didn't tell Ben was that he understood. He knew he was right, but he also knew that somehow the police had to be wrong. Kate had to be innocent.

The sound of a ship groaning in the night rung heavily throughout the medical station they were in, shaking the walls, demanding to find its way through the harbor. Only there couldn't be a ship. He let out a sharp his, grabbing his ears as the ship suddenly let out a roar. The door burst open, Juliet appeared, pale and afraid.

"Something's wrong!" She shouted over the noise. Her faint attempts of concern and fear barely elevated over the roaring.

The walls were literally shaking, trembling as the roaring beat against the fragile interior of the hatch. No one noticed as Jack followed Ben, bending down low as he covered his ears in attempts to protect himself from the echoing screams of the ship. Leaving the doctor's office led them into a white hallway, bare, abandoned. Lights flickered, he swore he felt the floor sliding beneath them. A set of double doors awaited them. He burst out into the sunlight to see that he was in the middle of the jungle- no where near a beach.

The world flashed white. Or violet. He fell to the ground, his eyes closed. Still he saw the violet-white flashes, radiant and so natural. Coming from the noise. As though the two had been stored in the island somewhere, kept prisoner. Until now.

Something sharp hit him on the back of the head and suddenly the light and noise were gone.

----

His shoulders shook slightly and it was all that he could feel as he stared at the darkness he was trapped in. All he could remember was a flashing light and a roaring sound. He remembered the roars of the monster, its shouts and the sound of a rattling chain as it chased them threw the jungle. It wasn't the same noise. This had been a roaring, so violent the island had been left shaken. Maybe he had too, maybe that's why his shoulders were trembling.

His eyes twisted, twitched, as they attempted to open, breaking through the darkness and memory of light. He was certain this would result in a violent wince, cowering away from the rays of light so bright they seemed to pierce his sight. The shaking increased; he could feel his skin scraping against cold concrete. He tried to open his eyes but they didn't seem to work, blinded by a light he couldn't even see now.

Soft skin brushed against his face; the shaking stopped. He became aware of a thick humming in his ears. Someone was humming a tune he didn't like, a tune that would never go away...

Suddenly his eyes worked. Eyelids rising slowly, he was welcomed into the bright light. The sharp rays of the white and violet that had attacked the island were still blurring his vision. The tune was still being hummed in his ear, a soft growing that suddenly cresendoed. Wincing, Jack brought a hand to his forehead. His skin was burning.

Light struck his vision, not glowing but stinging. He shut his eyes, forced himself back into darkness. Remained there for a moment, taking in the comfort of the shadows he seeked to shield himself from the light. The shaking began again, quickly becoming irritating as he felt his skin trembling against the cold floor. Yet his forehead was burning, set on fire by the sun- by those lights that had blocked out the sun. The burning became unbearable, and he forced his eyes open again in hopes of finding a way to making the fire trapped in his head go away.

This time the light was softer, dimmer, more welcoming, as was the smile that greeted him. Kate. She hadn't been there...was she still experiencing the same symptoms?

"How-" he coughed, voice dry, peeling away. He wished he had some water, but she didn't offer him any. He coughed again, tried to speak again, swallowing hard, wincing at the empty taste in his mouth. "Did you see that?"

Something strange happened. Her lips moved but he couldn't hear her, not as he should of. Her voice seemed so hollow, so far away. Like he was hearing her from the other end of a long tunnel, a deep tunnel that fought against sound. That's when he realized he never heard himself talking. The words had come out empty, he couldn't even be sure if he had actually spoken. Kate seemed to understand. She shook her head no, gazed down at him with a look of sickness and concern on her face. She sank to the floor, relaxing a little, rested a hand on his arms. That's when sleep found him, bringing him back to the darkness he had somehow managed to escape from.

----

When he woke up this time the darkness was familiar to him. He was too tired, too exhausted, to fight, and the dark depths of his sleeping mind accepted this. Pushing himself away from sleep, Jack awoke to the same dim light as before. The familiar feeling of cool concrete rushed back to him as his senses rose from their sleep. The cool, smooth floor felt soothing against the burning feeling that was returning to his head. But the humming was gone. Now there was just silence. He looked around for Kate, vision blurry, the floor and vacant room swerving together as his eyes found her sleeping form. She was beside him, sitting up against a wall. Knees drawn to her chest, arm hanging over them with her head resting on her forearms she slept, and he let her stay unaware of his awakening from sleep.

The creaking of an aging door drew his attention to the exit of the room; he found himself calm as Juliet walked into the room, carrying a plate of food. He wondered if he could talk now.

"How long-" his voice croaked, reminiscent of his earlier attempts at communication. At least he could hear himself now, though there was a soft piercing feeling in his ears, the slightest bit of pressure hit him as he tried to talk again, but enough for him to notice, enough to cause that much more pain. "How long have I been out?"

"A few hours," Juliet replied, "don't worry, you were sleeping. It wasn't because of the head injury."

For the first time he remembered what caused him to be in this situation, this darkness. The sharp pain to the back of his head. He gently felt the back of his head and found two bumps, painful to the touch. One from where Rousseau hit him, one from where he hadn't succeeded in going unnoticed by the Others when he ran outside, free to move on his own for the first time since that morning, not bound from moving or sight, not trapped in a room. He could have ran away had he been allowed a few more minutes to adjust to the light and noise.

"You should eat," Juliet said in a quiet, encouraging tone.

"And Kate?" He asked as he saw there was only one sandwich on the plate she carried. He caught a glimpse of the contents of the meal: freshly toasted bread, turkey, lettuce. Food...when was the last time he ate?

"She'll get to eat when she wakes up," Juliet said, "she must have fallen asleep waiting for you to wake up again."

Jack nodded, not completely convinced. He stared at the sandwich as Juliet placed it beside him, noting the careful way the edges were cut. The sandwich had been sliced down the middle into two neat sections, the turkey, lettuce, and even the tomatoes stored delicately in-between the two slices of white bread. What looked like a simple act of kindness had to be much more. The sandwich was made with too much care to blend in with the tainted yellow and green walls around him. He looked up at Juliet.

"Did you want something?" He asked.

Juliet wasn't there. Only blackness stared back at him through an ajar door. The door looked inviting, abandoned and welcoming him to step through into the empty hallway. He looked down at Kate, sleeping beside him, and was able to quickly make up his mind.

"I thought you guys might want to watch some tv."

His head jerked around, hand frozen from where it sat on Kate's shoulder, ready to wake her up and announce their opportunity of escape. Juliet was smiling. Her hand rested on an antique television set, rested on a faded green cart. Her fingers turned a circular dial and the television came to life before he had time to processes the newest modern invention found on the supposedly deserted island.

But what came on wasn't an old black-and-white movie or even the latest box office hit. The camera was focused on the living room of a quaint house. Drapes of contradicting shades of light and dark green hung around white curtains, blocking a view of the outside of the house. A white pillar sat to the left of the screen; a pathway led into what could have been a kitchen.

In front of a camera sat a blonde woman. Her hair was pulled back to fully reveal her face, her eyes set solely on the camera in front of her and the person this tape was made for- Jack. She held pieces of white poster boards; on them were messages.

"I think it's a good thing, what you're doing for Ben..."

She was talking over the silent videotape, but he wasn't listening. She didn't mean for him to listen. His eyes focused instead on the cue-cards, on the fact that the television was positioned away from the security cameras.

_Ignore everything I'm saying._

Juliet never blinked as the cue-cards changed in her hands; her eyes never left the camera in front of her.

_Ben is a liar. And he is very dangerous. Some of us want a change. But it has to look like an accident. It has to look like we tried to save him. And that's up to you, Jack. It's a complicated surgery. No one would ever know. And I would protect you. _

_Now tell me to turn off the movie._

"Turn off the movie."

He looked away from the television screen as the picture of the living room and drapes and Juliet's message faded away. He knew she didn't expect him to reply, and didn't say anything as he heard the television cart being wheeled away. He noticed the squeaking of the wheels on the cracking concrete floor and wondered why him. Except he knew why. She wanted him to kill Ben during the surgery. Risk his chance of getting himself and Kate rescued so that some of the Others- the people holding him captive- could get revenge. Because Juliet knew he wanted revenge. He would be saving the life of a man he hated, who he truly hated and who didn't deserve his help. But he would also be gaining freedom, a ticket to safety. The surgery would have to be done in the next couple of days; he had that amount of time to keep telling himself he was making the right decision.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	26. 23

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-Six

**Chapter Twenty-Six: **23

_She couldn't call for him. They'd escaped, they got separated, but the Others would be looking for them. She had to find Jack herself, and part of her was afraid to hope he was okay. She had been the victim of too much false hope to deal with loss again. Her feet stumbled around rocks and dried mud: it had rained sometime during their captivity. But they were away now, they would be there to see the next rainstorm. She could only hope they both would..._

_"Looking for me?"_

_Her feet slipped. Kate stumbled, catching herself as she spun around, eyes dashing around in horror at the voice that didn't belong to Jack. The voice that she had tried so many times to forgotten but so many times still haunted her dreams. The voice that belonged to a man she killed. _

_She held her breath, let the breath out. She was uncertain of what to do. Five feet in front of her, dressed as she remembered from her nightmares in jeans and a long-sleeved plaid t-shirt...she could still smell the alcohol reeking from his breath, the lopsided smile that suggested that somewhere inside he meant everything he said, even if he was living from the drink that controlled him. Black boots, ready to kick out at whomever dared to argue with him. Wayne. The man who was supposed to be her father. He had never been more than a pathetic, frightening figure that haunted her childhood._

_"You really thought your plan would work, didn't ya?" She began to shake; she remembered his voice so clearly. Ridden with alcohol, teeth rotting from cigarets. Voice uneven, though he seemed unaware that he was not the most ideal person. "You never stopped to considered that in the seconds, hell, minutes when you were sitting on the porch, waiting for the moment when your childhood home, your daddy, would explode, that I could have escaped out the back door?"_

_A shake of the head, disbelief; she took a step backwards as he laughed. Dry, the humor belonging only to himself._

_"Well now look," he went on. He took a step towards her for every step she took back. "We're here, together. Guess we can live happily ever after."_

_Another step forward and he reached for her arm. She turned to run, almost escaping before thick, sharp fingernails dug into her arm, jerking her back around._

Water blurred her vision; she gasped, hand coming to her face instinctively to wipe the tears away.

"Kate?"

She turned away at Jack's voice, humiliated that she hadn't been able to catch herself before escaping her nightmare with tears in her eyes. She felt his hand on her arm. She flinched; it still hurt from where the fingertips had dug into her skin. Slapping his hand away, she turned, examining the skin where she expected to see deep red bruises. There was nothing there.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked. She wished he would stop staring at her with those eyes, so deeply concerned and wanting to know what was going on. She wanted to be left alone. But she couldn't. She was stuck here, actually trapped here with Jack and would never be able to escape his interrogations.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice raspy. She realized she had been out of breath.

"Sure," Jack retorted, "I guess all those other times you wake up crying you're alone, right?"

For the first time she turned to him, her red-rimmed eyes meeting his, warning him to stay away. She decided what was best for her was to try to ignore the nightmare. Sitting up on her elbows, Kate looked around the empty aquarium, at the darkness that stretched out beyond the glass wall before them.

"Did I miss anything interesting?" She replied, attempting to sound casual as she set up. She noticed a turkey sandwich sitting on a glass plate beside Jack, but she decided to let him explain.

"They brought dinner," Jack said; he must have noticed her eyes wondering, or perhaps her empty stomach crying out for food. He slid the plate towards her. She looked from the sandwich to him, trying to catch what he was hiding. He was being too casual, too much in a good mood. Either he was feeling more sorry for her then he should...or he was hiding something.

"Did you eat?" She inquired.

Jack nodded.

"They're actually not bad cooks," he replied, "maybe if they began dedicating their life to something more positive, like cooking-"

Beyond the glass wall a door creaked open. Their heads jerked towards the thin ray of light, desperate to catch a glimpse of what may be behind the darkness staring back at him. The door closed as soon as it opened. Light footsteps crept towards them; she felt Jack tense beside her, his hand fell on her arm. A small shadow stepped into the dim light; her own size and height, but this girl had to be in her teens.

Jack relaxed a little, his hand hovering in the air instead of gripping her arm. Obviously he recognized this person Kate had never seen before.

"Shouldn't you be having lunch with your boyfriend?" She looked to Jack, surprised by his fearless remark. And the girl was actually offended; she looked away and then back. Kate recognized in her eyes that she wasn't in the mood for the insults.

"Is my dad going to be okay?"

Jack's eyes flashed towards Kate briefly, then to the floor, unsure of how to comprehend what the girl asked him. All eyes waiting for Jack to answer, he nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "after the surgery's done, he should be fine."

"And you'll do the surgery?"

Jack studied the girl, who stared back at him, eyes wide and awaiting his answer.

"Is he going to let us go home?"

The girl replied, even tone threatening to break as impatience began to take the best of her:

"If he's in the right mood."

Jack looked away; Kate remained silent. Being able to get off the island was the sole reason Jack was here, and if this plan failed, if he helped Ben for no reason...she knew he was already thinking of what that situation would mean.

"But he's usually a man of his word," the girl said, but when Jack looked back up at her, it was too obvious she wasn't entirely sure of this herself. There was more to the story.

But still Jack nodded.

"Yeah, I'll do the surgery."

She knew he didn't mean that. The girl nodded, staring at him another moment. As though there was something else she really wanted to say. Eyes deep, silence intimidating, their conversation was cut short by fear, and the girl walked away. Again the thin ray of light cut into the darkness; the door opened in closed. When all was silent again, Kate turned to Jack.

"Why did you tell her that?"

Jack shook his head and looked away.

"She just needs some hope," he replied hoarsely.

"Since when do you care about giving them hope?" She demanded, eyes locked on him as he turned away from her.

He never answered.

----

There was a popping noise and then a bang. Her eyes opened, but she couldn't see Jack. She couldn't hear him. Footsteps echoed across the room. She began inhaling and exhaling more rapidly than she could control; her heart raced to be saved from whatever unknown event was about to happen. And it all happened too fast. She never saw Jack; she didn't know if he was still there as the footsteps quickened. Something sharp pierced her arm, and she cried out...if only to let him know that she was there. Then even the darkness slipped away, and she would never understand what happened to either of them.

----

He twitched uncontrollably, a spider caught in a web, arms held tightly behind his back by Juliet. She wouldn't look at him; every pair of the Others' eyes remained focused on the jungle ahead of them. Kate was no where to be seen. He had heard her cry out, back in the cell, and then there had been silence. Everything had been so dark...the lights had been cut off. It was the middle of the night after a long, uneventful day, and silence following Alex's visit to their cell. Now he was sick with desperation to see Kate, to know she was alright. But he wasn't told anything; there was nothing but a sudden darkness as a bag was placed over his head.

A doorway opened, creaking madly against concrete, the sharp shriek of the door scratching against the surface piercing his ears. He was shoved inside. They never stopped until somewhere, down the hall from the main entrance, another door opened. Softly this time. Jack was thrown into the room, the bag was taken from his head.

Voices argued; he recognized Juliet's amongst him. He was kept in the dark, literally, only light peering in from the ajar door gave him clue as to where he was. The hallway outside the room was dark, as always; dim emergency lights led the way for the residents willing to suffer the inconvenience if it meant keeping their prisoners in the dark- figuratively. Then blonde hair whipped around, waltzing into the room as the rest of the Others turned to the left and walked away. A door opened somewhere nearby; he realized his heart had been pounding. That had to be where Kate was.

"Ben's not very happy with you right now, Jack," Juliet said. She stepped out of the emergency lights and into the room, flipped on a lightswitch.

An involuntary gasp left him. He was standing in a bedroom. Not exactly as classy as the homes Jack had seen in the village; the small compartment only stretched five feet in each direction from him. The tiny square room contained a cot with a mattress and set of sheets, and white walls, bare except for a painting on the far right wall. Jack stepped closer to a watercolor picture of a farm. The sun was setting in the distance but a little girl still played in the yard, gazing at a black horse that stood before a quiet barn. There was no sign of any other family or animals, just the little girl and horse, and a sinking sun that failed to chase her back inside.

"There's been a change of plans."

Jack turned away from the painting.

"Where's Kate?" He was trying to remain calm, hoping that Juliet might help him, as she wanted his help.

"This is serious, Jack."

He glared at her, stopping himself shortly. Juliet was gazing at him, not in her calm, manipulating stares but with a different plead for help. Absolute fear that this would fail.

"What kind of change of plans?" He asked, beginning to pace the room.

Juliet remained stiff, terrified eyes following him as he spoke. Like maybe this was supposed to connect them; whatever happened would convince him to help her. Like he cared about her.

"Ben's daughter is missing."

They knew. Alex came and talked to him and Kate...she wasn't supposed to. They knew and now they thought he and Kate had something to do with her disappearance.

"Why do I care?" He shot, and waited for her answer.

She stared at him for a moment, long, confused; she expected things to turn out differently.

"Things are going to be different now," she began carefully, "and unless something can be done about it, unless Alex is found, action is taken..." she made a deliberate pause, and Jack's heart jumped. She was talking directly to him now. Not through Ben's mouth. If 'action is taken'- if he helped her kill Ben. "Then maybe there doesn't have to be a change. But right now, I would do what Ben says."

Without meaning to his eyes flickered a little too close to hers; their eyes connected, he fell under her gaze, trying to win him over with the haunting effects of her warning. He wouldn't let her win. He held their gaze another moment and then broke contact, turning away. He heard the door shut as his eyes drifted to the back wall.

Within moments of the door closing the rhythm started. Beats of some unknown music pounded against the walls, softly, but audibly, coming from somewhere within the rooms beyond this one.

There were no other sounds for what might have been hours. No movement in the halls, no opening or closing doors, no footsteps across the cracking cement. Just the music pounding against his head. It was almost as if no one cared about him anymore. He lay on the cot, on top of the sheets, mind flickering between awareness of his surroundings, who would be the next to open the door and what they would want, and recent events. Constant worry of where Kate was to the point of refusing to think about her. He needed to keep his head straight, and so he filled his thoughts instead of the violet light that had pierced the sky. The noise, the vibrations. The effects had caused him to temporarily lose his his voice, made him hard of hearing and struggle to see clearly. What was its connections to the island?

The button. Had the Others even thought of that? Was there someone watching the hatch now? Or was the button never pushed...and the island attacked by the violet light? He rolled over to his side, satisfied with his answer. Whatever it had been, it hurt the Others, not him.

His eyes landed on something just barely sticking out from beneath the mattress. Just enough for him to finally see whatever this was that was hidden for him. He dug the object out: a pale folder. He didn't hesitate to open to the first page.

It was all x-rays. X-rays and information on Ben's medical history. Nothing new. Sighing, frustrated, even angry with disappointment, Jack threw the folder to the floor, letting it slide across the cold ground as papers came lose from its place inside the pockets. And then one paper, smaller then the others, folded- a note- slid out onto the floor. He bent down and picked up the folded sheet of printer paper.

A message, typed:

_This can all go very smoothly. At the moment, you shouldn't put your trust in anyone- anyone but me. I promise that I can protect you because I'm the only one here who cares what happens to you. If you think he will take time out of his life, especially at the moment, to make sure that he keeps his promises...he can be a man of his word, but he can't always be trusted. And trust me, now is the time to find someone you can really put your trust in. This will be simple, and I promise that I will keep my word. I know what it's like for the promises made to you to be broken._

He didn't know which was more startling, how honest the letter actually seemed or the risks Juliet took in making sure he read it. 'I know what it's like for the promises made to you to be broken.' Was she a victim to? Or was this all a trick to get what she wanted?

Then again, why would Ben want him to go? Why would he let him leave the island when he might go and tell the world all he had been through on the island? That point was stronger, more frightening, more convincing than trying to believe that Ben was honest.

And at that moment the door was thrown open, bouncing against the walls and then slowing to a stop, ajar. Jack's heart leapt, his head pounded. His hands shook in horror as he tried to fold the letter, slip it into the folder, and hide the folder all before Ben's eyes found him. He failed.

He was grabbed by the arm, thrown off the bed. His fist clenched around the folder, knuckles turning red as Ben's hand wrapped around his arm, twisting his wrist as Jack pushed him away at the same time. The bottom corners the folder began to peel away. Ben twisted his arm again, the one Ethan injured not to long ago. He closed his eyes, threw Ben backwards. His grip on Jack's arm loosened, pain slipped through the bones of his wrist as his arm was freed. And as it was freed, a hand ripped through the air, snatching the edges of the folder he was barely holding onto. The note fell into Ben's hand.

Holding his injured wrist in the opposite hand, Jack looked away.

"Who gave this to you?" Ben demanded.

He dared to look back at him; Ben's eyes were sick, dancing about the letter of betrayal, wide, unhealthily angry. Then those eyes landed on Jack himself, only sending him into further silence. In the next moment he was being thrown against the wall, Ben's haunting, horrifically angry eyes only inches from his face.

"Who gave this to you?" Ben's voice exploded; just the effect itself was enough to send Jack scrambling backwards, his back twisting against the wall, desperate to simply sink through as an escape.

He didn't answer. For the first time he let his eyes connect with Ben's and was surprised to find them nothing but mirrors of weak courage. Somewhere in there, Ben was only a man who was fighting to find his daughter- the girl who was probably just another captive on the island- a man who had a tumor that was killing him. All this fear was just a part of his mind games that Jack realized were so simple it was insulting. His strength returning unimaginably clearly, he was able to push Ben away, knocking the man to the ground. Each glared at the other, stunned, trying to decide what this meant.

Ben quickly scrambled to his feet, file still safely held with one hand, and pulled a walkie-talkie from its holster on his waist.

"Tom?" Ben said, the wild look was back in his eyes again, returning with such quick determination that Jack momentarily forgot all he had just discovered about Ben. "Our suspicions were correct. I'm bringing Shephard in."

The door opened, and Ben obviously expected Jack to follow. But he stood there, hesitant. Ben expected him to follow, just like that?

"Do you want to see Kate again?" At the mention of her name, Jack felt his chest rise and fall more rapidly, thoughts racing at the thought of being able to see Kate again. He followed Ben into the hallway.

Ben didn't bother to bind his hands, and he soon saw why. The room they were headed towards was only a few doors down; as they approached it the rhythmic bass that had been pounding in his ears for the past few hours cresendoed.

Room 23. Blue-painted door amongst the dimly lit hallway. This is where Kate was. But why was there music?

The darkness only grew deeper as Ben pushed the door open to reveal an open, dark room. Until he noticed the flashing lights. The music increased as their footsteps stepped into the lights whose shadows bounced against the floors and walls in a sickly rhythm. All of it was so loud, so violent. And what did this have to do with Kate?

"Tom!" Ben yelled over the music as they left the door behind them.

He found out where the lights were coming from: screen, some kind of movie-theatre screen, displaying flashing images. Random selections of flowers and animals...maybe not so random, selected for hidden reason. His eyes darted away from the screen. He found Kate. Strapped to a chair, arm strapped to an IV. Wearing some kind of 3D glasses, glowing in blue as her eyes watched the screen. Brainwashed.

"Kate!" His voice screamed louder than Ben's as he rushed towards her. Ben's hand grabbed his arm, stopping him.

His heart raised with the beat of the drums, the ongoing pounding bass that threatened to rip the walls apart. The lights' patterns dancing about the room in a sickly beat with the music. And the messages...there were messages on the screen too.

_Everything changes. _

Dancing images. Rotting coins, money. CDs. Flashing of other objects his mind couldn't keep up with. But he had a feeling that Kate could see it all...

Heads of antique dolls, heads turned in different angles, staring at Kate through the dark, blue-rimmed glasses.

_We are the causes of our own suffering._

He began shaking, eyes flashing as rapidly as the music and pictures from the video to Kate. Did she know he was there? Was she even still aware of what was going on? He thought he had been in the room, listening to the distant bass rhythms for hours. But surely it wasn't hours. No, it couldn't have been hours. No more than ten minutes. Five. And surely she knew that what she was being forced to watch wasn't true. The messages from the Others...surely she realized what was going on. She was simply fighting it all.

A moon. A bird's nest.Images of food, random objects thrown at the 3D glasses.

_God loves you as He loved Jacob._

He turned to Ben, who was playing with the lines connecting the IV to Kate's arm, preparing to take the IV apart.

"What are you doing?" He demanded over the music. Ben didn't answer him. "Answer me!"

The sound of air being let out of a tight container exploded into the room: the music turned off. Lights flickered on. The IV was off of Kate's arm and Ben was removing the 3D glasses. Jack was beside her immediately, hand on her arm as the handcuffs binding her to the chair were lifted.

She hadn't been fighting. She had seen it all, and he had no way of knowing whether or not she fell for their brainwashing. Her eyes hovered in a half-open state, drooping heavily. She had been drugged.

"It's okay," he told her, sliding his hand down her arm so that it fell into the palm of her hand. He gazed at her another moment, wondering if she even knew he was there. Suddenly her hand slipped away. Her eyes fell to a close. Jack looked up at Ben: he was taking down the brainwashing equipment, uneffected by what was happening.

He stood, swinging his fist around. Ben flew backwards as Jack's fist connected first with his jaw, then his nose. Hands flying to protect his face, Ben stumbled to regain his balance. Jack didn't stop hitting him.

"No wonder your daughter left you!" Jack screamed as an Other's hands were suddenly pulling him back. He kicked out with his feet, shoes kicking at the air as Ben stumbled back, regained his balance.

Sharp metal cut against Jack's wrist as his hands were forced behind his back. Ben watched him, unaware of his bleeding face as he gained the breath to ask:

"Who told you about Alex?" Jack didn't answer, trying to displace himself from the position he was in. He was back in the Other's hands, as Kate would be soon. He remained silent, letting Ben ask his questions until Jack found a way into a plan to get them out of here. "What do you know about her? What did she say to you?" Before he could catch himself confusion shot through his face. A weary smile appeared on Ben's lips. "Tell me what happened to my daughter."

He took a step closer to Jack, but he wasn't afraid. He had to do the surgery, he couldn't be hurt. Until after the surgery, he was safe.

"I have to admit, Jack, that I never knew you had it in you," Ben began. The smile deepened, and Jack felt his hands clench into fist around the handcuffs that bound him. "You've been so brave through all of this." He had more courage than any of them knew. He knew what it meant to fight for someone, to care about someone. These people...they only knew fake power, how to rule a community that really meant nothing and fight for evil. "You still think you're in charge."

"I am in charge," Jack spat, the excitement of being able to speak his mind, what was actually true, rushing through him and blending terrifically with anger. "You want me to save your life, you're in no position to be treating me like crap. You listen to what I want."

But the smile on Ben's face never failed. He suddenly became aware again of Kate's presence in the room, of the man standing behind her, preparing to take her away.

"Sorry Jack," Ben stated, his smile too malicious to be one of a father whose daughter was missing, "there's been a change of plans."

The Other behind Kate lifted her from the chair, binding her hands though she was unconscious. Her feet dragged across the ground as she was led away just as the Other holding him led Jack out the door, away from Ben and the brainwashing room. He turned his head from side to side, fighting, trying to catch sight of where Kate was being taken. But his room was only a couple of doors down.

"Kate!" He shouted, hoping that she was somehow able to hear him.

A hand pushed against his head, tossing him back into the room with the single bed. There was a snap and the handcuffs were unlocked, taken from his wrist; the door slammed shut.

**Author's Notes:** The chapter wasn't meant to be this short, but I think this is a nice, evil, cliffhanger. Hopefully there's enough mysteries to keep you guys wondering what is going on, and taking the chapter any further would have taken away from that. Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	27. Free Will

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-Seven

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:** Free Will

He concentrated on calming down, breathing without feeling like he was letting out an air of fire with each frustrated exhale of breath. Back against the wall Jack sat on the bed in the claustrophobic room and watched the shadows sink underneath the door, counting the moments until the room would be completely dark. He hadn't realized just how loud the brainwashing video's music had been until the building turned to silence, isolating him from the rest of the world. There was no way to know where Kate was or the condition she was in. There was no way to know what Ben was planning. Not until someone came to talk to him. So he watched the shadows and waited.

The shadows kept the time, every hour passing as the room crept further into darkness. Even sleep was trying to take over now, and he found himself fighting the desire to rest, closing his eyes only for his eyelids to snap open a moment later. Sleep and impatience were successfully beginning to take over, and his eyes flashed towards the wall simply for a change in scenery. The painting of the farm caught his eye: the little girl who dared to disobey the setting sun's orders for the day to end. He looked at the picture more closely, now squinting, searching the painting for an artist's name. It became a game, discover who painted the picture before darkness fell. When darkness fell he was truly alone.

A cool orange glow substituted the fiery sun he was used to seeing; and soon every detail of the painting began to shout to him. The trees were highlighted with streaks of a soft green, contrasting the glowering darkness that lay behind, drawing the lines between safety and fear. The horse stood unthreatened, completely in sync with the world in the picture. Everything at peace, everything too perfect. The picture was a dream. That place wasn't real. It was an image of the mind, painted by a little girl who would never get to go to such a place, find such peace. The painting was trapped here as he was, locked inside this room until darkness hid it. Only in the idea of that place would the sun never completely set.

Hazy darkness began to settle around him, covering the dusty dryness of the air. The dim lights from the hallway were no good now; everything around him was disappearing into darkness. Night had fallen, everyone at the camp would soon be asleep. How many hours would they rest before they would decide he deserved to know what was going on?

Suddenly the lingering darkness was pushed away and the smallest of light escaped into the room as the door was pushed open. In the dim shadows stood a figure shorter than most of the Others he had seen, wearing dark jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt. There was a short pause and then light suddenly snapped alive. He blinked, closing his eyes tightly to shield himself from the sudden dizziness of light. Carefully he opened his eyes and found the door had been closed. The person in the sweatshirt had taken the hood down; untamed curly hair was trapped between the sweatshirt and her back.

"What are you doing here?" He said, staring at Alex as she stared at him. "If your father finds out you're here...I don't know who he'll be more angry at: you or me."

A sharp coldness sank into Alex's eyes.

"He's not my father," she said. "I'm here to help you."

His mind focused on the one thought: escape. He let her speak.

"I know you're in trouble," she began, her voice crawling with anxiety as desperation for revenge mixed poorly with hesitation and fear, "they probably won't let Juliet anywhere near you during the surgery."

"How-"

"There's only one boat they have for trips the outside world," Alex interrupted, "if they let you leave at all."

His eyes darkened; his stomach sank into a hole so deep he thought he might be sick.

"They're not letting us leave?" He said slowly; he didn't even try to comprehend the thought yet. Refusing to believe it might make it unreal.

Alex shrugged. That was all she had to offer. A simple shrug of the shoulder. No explanations- there were never explanations.

"But that doesn't matter," she said. His heart was pounding, his mind racing. He had been depending on rescue, had been living on the thought all through captivity. Just the smallest threat of rescue being taken away shattered everything he and Kate had worked towards. "The boat will return tomorrow. Ethan will be on it."

"Ethan..." he trailed off, being attacked by too many thoughts racing through his mind. Journeys to the outside world...these people regularly went off the island? For what? Where did they go? Did someone know about this place?

"He had to go out there for something, I don't know what," Alex said, "but they're bringing him back in case something goes wrong with the surgery."

And still her promise of rescue fought its way to surface.

"What does this have to do with me?" He demanded.

"When Ethan comes back I'll be there," she said, "I'll take him hostage. All you have to do is threaten Ben's life and they'll be convinced."

"Convinced?" He repeated; confusion and foreboding horror flashed across his eyes as he tried to wrap his mind about what Alex was asking him to do. "What is it you're wanting me to do?"

"Just stop the surgery," Alex said. He could see her heart pounding in her eyes, just as nervous as he. "Get one of their walkie-talkies and I'll get you out of there."

"What about Kate?" He said, shaking his head. "I'm not leaving without her. Do you know where she is?"

Head rolling to the floor Alex looked away, falling into silence as she stood, ashamed she couldn't get him an answer. She shook her head just enough so he would know the truth.

"I can find out," she promised, looking back up at him, "just trust me."

A pounding silence took over as Jack took everything in. What if this could work? Finally he felt in control, in charge of fate. He could finally get them rescued; but hesitation still held him back. Too many failures, too many disappointments led him to refuse to completely give into hope.

"How are you so sure?" He said, fear slipping through the uncertainty of his words. "They're looking for you everywhere. How is this going to work?"

A smile pulled at her lips; her eyes diverted to the floor.

"I have help," she declared. Her eyes flashed towards him, connecting with him. "Just trust me."

Torn between hesitation and eagerness to just agree to do this, his desperation for rescue, he stood in silence, analyzing each promise she gave and everything that could go wrong. If this failed and Ben knew he didn't trust them this could ruin everything. But if this worked, if Ben really wasn't willing to help him, this could be their only ticket to freedom.

He nodded. As he turned away the last he saw of her was her lingering smile before she closed the door, leaving him in darkness.

----

When they found him the next morning he was still awake, eyes wide and drained after a night of struggling to find rest. He was sitting on the bed again, knees drawn to his chest, and when he looked up he half expected to see Alex entering the room. It was Tom.

"Good," Tom remarked, throwing an unconcerned glance towards Jack, "looks like I won't have any trouble waking you up. Come on. Let's get this over with."

Wincing at the sunlight Jack followed Tom through the jungle, finding the world eerily quiet and empty. There was no mention of Kate; Tom didn't even mention the surgery. He was preoccupied, Jack realized, with the thought of his leader's life being at risk. Biting back a laugh Jack remembered Alex's words from the night before, silently agreeing with her that all it would take was for Ben's life to be the least bit at risk. Where did she go when she left? He stretched his eyes towards the jungle, scanning the trees around them. What if she got caught?

He remembered the building from his first time here in captivity. His eyes caught sight of the cages, of the blonde woman that sat in the corner of the one he had been held in. Juliet smiled at him through the bars of the cage as he passed. Eyes of horror, he looked from her to the windows of the building, finding the one that opened to the room he had first been held in. He remembered looking outside and seeing Kate trapped in those same cages.

They shortly reached the first door in the hallway and Tom pushed it open to reveal a small locker room. Tom left without a word.

There were only a half a dozen tan lockers; all were empty. Jack looked around, growing anxious as he thought of Alex's plan. He would have to stop the surgery; it would need to be something that would temporarily put Ben's life in danger. Ethan could be there soon, as soon as he and Kate were on the boat heading home.

The door opened again and Jack turned. A teenaged boy stood in the entrance, staring at him. In his hand he held a pair of blue hospital scrubs. They were folded so that a new Dharma symbol set on top- a hydra.

"Here," the boy said, his voice shaking slightly with nerves.

Jack glanced to him, wondering why the kid would be so nervous. He took the scrubs and received an answer. The clothes fell into his hands with an unexpected weight, like a brick was hidden within the scrubs. He lifted the shirt off the pants and froze: a gun stared back at him. He looked up.

The boy smiled at him; a quick, nervous smile. Then the teenager turned and fled from the room.

_I have help, _Alex had promised.

He remembered that day at the cages, seeing Alex and thinking this would be his chance of escape. But instead she ran, leaving him some excuse about having dinner that night with her father and her boyfriend.

This was it. He was putting his hope for rescue in a teenaged girl and her boyfriend. And if they failed...he wondered how badly Ben would punish the girl he raised to be his daughter.

----

Everything was exactly as he remembered it: the light green walls, the formal setting as they walked across the carpeted floors. Determination settled into his eyes as he was led into an operating room a half an hour later. He wore the scrubs over his jeans, the gun tucked safely away. When the Others didn't suspect him of anything he felt rush of excitement, uncontrollable anxiety as the thought of rescue seemed closer than ever. But how many other times had that same thought crossed his mind?

As they reached the familiar door as a memory he still hadn't let go of struck him with a deathly force. The operation Ben had forced him to finished, the one he actually told Kate to start. And it had all been fake. His hands weren't tied, but four of them surrounded him as he entered the room. How ironic that all he had to do right now was pull out the gun...but he had to wait.

The room wasn't as crowded as he remembered it being. And Kate wasn't there. What if Alex couldn't find her? What if Kate was injured? He took his place beside the operating table without voicing any of these worries, and stared down at Ben, face-down on the operating table as he stared with glassy eyes to the floor.

"I need you to count down from one-hundred," a woman was telling him.

Someone rolled out a cart that held the tools needed for the surgery.

"You have everything you need?" Tom asked.

Jack nodded. His eyes fell to the scalpel waiting for him. Breath caught in his chest he tried not to be intimidated by the silence taking over as he reached down, so determined to keep his hands from shaking that his right arm felt twice the weight of his left. Gripping the handle of the scalpel he turned to Ben, finding solace in the normalcy that connected this surgery to his life back at home.

_Shedding off the gloves decorated with spots of blood, Jack headed towards the locker room, a smile lingering on his face. When he entered the lobby of the neurology department fifteen minutes later he was dressed in a suit and dress shoes, all signs of blood and sweat from the hours of surgery gone. He smiled as he found the woman he had been searching for in the lobby._

_"Hey mom," he said, greeting her with a hug as she stood. She was dressed in a dark purple skirt and blouse, a silver necklace hanging from her neck and a bracelet made up of dozens of silver hearts around her wrist._

_"How was work?" His mother asked as they left the lobby, the stress and pounding fear of the hospital left behind as they stepped into the cool night._

_"Great." For him the day had been less than stressful, the surgery smooth and ending without fault. The patient would be fine with the required time for recovery, and never had he once had to doubt his ability to save their life._

_As they crossed the parking lot his eyes fell on the sign that had recently replaced the parking restrictions that had previously been there: 'Dr. Kevin Green, Chief of Surgery'. He could never get used to reading those words, silently demanding they should be replaced. But the man who the parking space formerly belonged to had been fired a month ago and he wasn't talking to him. He refused to talk to his own son._

_"Does he ask about me?" Jack asked suddenly, the question bringing a wave of surprise as his mother's eyes widened, his own heart pounding at anticipation for an answer._

_He had been asking the question to himself every night, every day at work, continuously wondering if his father ever worried about him, if he was concerned at all about how his son was handling this. But he had been too afraid to ask his mother, aware that she and his father still talked. Bringing himself to ask the question now might result in hours of laughter from his parents later that night._

_"He doesn't really ask about anyone," his mother replied. Her eyes were glued closely to the ground; she swallowed nervously and said no more._

_She was lying: twisting around what might have partly been true in hopes that Jack wouldn't go home that night drowning himself in self-pity, struggling to deal with the disappointment and anger she knew he possessed. They put her in the middle of this, and at least Jack hadn't meant to. But he couldn't help but to feel betrayed at her defending his father when he found no reason to feel guilty about the decision he made. His father was guilty. What he did was wrong and the drunken behavior wasn't new to his father's lifestyle. The drink he depended on so much, that controlled his personality, his anger, had been pulling away the pieces that held together their relationship since Jack was a kid. There was no reason for him to feel guilty._

_And yet as time went on and all he wanted was for his father to say something to him, to acknowledge him, he began searching for reasons that would have put he himself at fault. Even as he reminded himself that he did the right thing Jack had to wonder if his decision had really been what was best for his relationship with his father. At least before they talked; they'd had a decent relationship that even allowed for the occasional meaningful conversations, for Jack to admit to his father all that he was struggling to deal with himself._

_"Try not to worry, Jack," his mother said, her voice rising softly against the distant cries of an ambulance, "he'll come out of this. He's still proud of you."_

_"Did he tell you that?" Jack demanded, stopping and turning to his mother. The smallest of hope settled into a pit in his stomach, mixing there with the sick thought that his mother was still lying to him._

_His mother only smiled._

_"He's still there, somewhere inside him," she said, the smile lingering sadly on her face, "the part of him that's always been proud of you. That's what it will take to pull him out of this: to find that part of him."_

_Jack shook his head; hope still rested inside him but bitter disappointment wrapped around his final words as he continued walking:_

_"I think that's easier said then done."_

He began to wonder if the room was actually silent. He wondered if their piercing stares, if the wide, anxious eyes that followed every move he made could really see straight though him, if they could really read his thoughts. Working carefully Jack tried to make himself look as innocent as possible, his mind always on the gun that waited to be begin the first stages of rescue. He wondered which moment to pick: when it would be too early or if it was already too late.

Static broke into a fit of struggling coughs behind him; his heart leapt as he heard Tom answer the walkie-talkie.

"Yeah?" Tom said.

"We have a situation," replied a cold, sharp male voice on the other end.

Ethan.

"What?" Tom snapped. "We're kind of in the middle of something here."

"I've been kidnapped," Ethan said, "and you'll never guess who's holding me hostage."

Jack's heart began to race. Now. It had to be now. Pulling the scalpel backwards with a flick of his wrist Jack cut a slice of Ben's kidney sac, eyes wide and spinning madly as he watched Alex's plan fall into place. Reaching behind him he pulled out the gun. He swung his wrist around and the woman who tried to stop him was on the floor, eyes closed. Each heart beat chased the next, his mind reeling with decisions. He looked up to find Tom staring at him, caught in a stunned daze.

Tom just stared at Jack as the voice changed to that of a teenaged girl and Alex's orders demanded attention.

"I want you to bring Jack and Kate to me," Alex announced.

His eyes narrowed with anger, and Jack was reminded of father in disbelief over how their child was acting.

"Alex, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Tom demanded.

"Jack, are you there?" Alex asked, ignoring Tom.

Grabbing the walkie-talkie from Tom he held the phone closely as he spoke.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Get out of there," she said, "get to the dock. Then I'll release Ethan."

His heart pounded at her words, skipping over beats with brewing anger as he concentrated closely on what she had said.

"What about Kate?" He said. "Where is she?"

Suddenly he became aware of the heart monitor that was racing behind him, the sounds of the machines that would soon fade if Ethan didn't get here soon to save Ben. Tom's eyes were watching him, stunned and confused. He waited in anticipation of receiving an answer, thoughts rushing through his mind as his worries would finally be at ease.

"She's here."

He looked away, pressing his lips together firmly and closing his eyes as he fought back the emotion and relief that overwhelmed him.

"Just get to the dock," Alex said, "you can see her then."

Then line went dead; his racing breaths echoed against the machines that struggled to keep Ben alive. He looked up and met Tom's eyes.

----

He knew he wouldn't use the gun, but Jack kept the weapon pointed steadily at Tom's back as he led him out of the buildings. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed movement from the cages, and his determination to reach the dock as quickly as possible suddenly faltered.

"Wait," Jack said, stopping, "give me the keys."

"The keys to what?" Tom said, his voice shaking pathetically.

"The keys to the cages!" His voice rang in anger; Juliet's hands wrapped around the bars of the cages, watching him with silent confusion as he took the keys from Tom and walked over to the cage. He stopped there, his eyes connecting with Juliet. "Do you want to get out of here?"

She stared at him, tears emerging in her eyes, and Jack knew he was far from knowing her whole story of being with the Others. She nodded.

----

They stood at the end of the dock: Alex beside Ethan, who sat on the ground, arms tied behind his back, the boy Jack remembered from the locker room, Danielle, who gazed at him, interested and observant as they approached, and Kate. Kate sitting on the ground beside the boy, gazing towards the sea like he had seen her do so many times at the beach. Shoulders dropped forward, arms thrown lazily over her knees. Face pale, hair falling around her carelessly. But as Jack, Juliet, and Tom reached the entrance to the dock Kate looked up, her eyes met with his.

She remained sitting. He struggled to breathe properly, to keep focused on getting off the island and leave his concerns for Kate for later: why she barely seemed to acknowledge him, why her eyes looked so unfamiliar and empty, so red-rimmed from tears that had long since dried on her face. They approached the group waiting beside a boat with the words _Free Will_ printed in navy blue cursive across the white sides of the vessel.

With an unsympathetic jerk Alex forced Ethan to a standing position; his eyes followed Jack with sharp, deathly glares. Juliet was smiling behind him, the sun highlighting the excitement in her eyes.

Kate still remained seated as they reached them, and he was standing only a few feet from her. She gazed up at him, pained, confused, as though she wasn't sure what she was supposed to think upon seeing him. He stared down at her, eyes ridden with sympathy as he held back confusion in hopes of not scaring her. He saw Ethan being tossed to the side nearby; he assumed Tom took him. His eyes remained on Kate even as Alex stepped into the boat.

Out of nowhere a smile appeared on his face. Maybe she was reluctant to admit her own excitement, too traumatized by disappointment to actually believe they would make it home. But soon it was only he and Kate who needed to climb onto the boat, and he knew this was real.

"I guess we're going home," he said, unable to control his smile as it widened, grinning brightly even as Kate remained blank.

She didn't seem distant. He could see her there, in her eyes, trying to speak to him. He reached down for her hand. Her eyes flashed towards the island and he followed her gaze, trying to understand what she was telling him. The boat fought the current that slapped against its exterior as they gazed at the island that connected them and the memories that tainted their lives. But even so they had lived through it all; they survived together, and a selfish consideration came to mind as he wondered if she was worried that bond would break between them as soon as they left.

"We've got to go," he said, turning back to her, "we need to get to somewhere safe." He tried to meet her eyes but she refused, fixed instead on the island they fought so hard to escape. "Everything will be okay."

This was because of the brainwashing video, he thought. Maybe she wasn't really even aware of what was going on. He held out his hand again.

She took it.

Their eyes met more suddenly than he expected, and he was taken aback by the emotion that was so alive within them, the part of her that was reaching out past the restrictions of the effects of the past few days. He smiled again, ignoring that there was no smile in return. She gazed at him another moment before diverting her eyes to the sea.

Turned away from the island he could feel the past leaving him as they stepped into the boat, the boy helping Kate climb in and Jack stepping in last. He sat on a bench connected to the side of the boat, beside Kate and across from Danielle and the boy. Alex started the boat and Juliet sat on the floor behind her. They remained silent, lingering smiles on their faces as the boat was pointed towards the horizon; towards home.

But Jack couldn't help but to take one last glance at the island, thinking that soon it would only be a piece of land sitting in the middle of the sea. He looked back to the horizon, waiting for that moment.

----

That moment came a couple of hours later. The boat still drove away quietly, Kate still sitting beside him, not even acknowledging reality. He wanted to talk to her. He didn't have any idea of what she was going through.

Jack spent the boat ride stealing glances towards the island, using every fading distance as a calculation of how close to home they were. Now he could barely see the island. Only white sand and a cluster of trees were visible, hiding what the island was truly capable of. It was all in the past now. All they had to do was move forward. He looked to Kate, wondering if he should say this; but her eyes were already fixed on the horizon, the memory of the island dancing before her eyes. She already knew this. Still he opened his mouth, desperate to talk to her, for her to say something, anything.

"Hey!" The boy exclaimed. Earlier he had briefly introduced himself as Karl- Alex's boyfriend.

Snapping out of their reveries they followed his eyes to the sea to the right of them, the waters that led back to the shore none of them cared to return to. But it was Karl who first spotted the sailboat resting alone in the distance, and it was Jack who recognized who the boat belonged to.

"That's Desmond's sailboat," he said in a stunned breath.

"Who?" Juliet said, glancing towards him.

"Can you get us over there?" Jack asked, getting to his feet.

"Are you sure?" Alex said.

"Yeah."

As they came closer to the sailboat he saw that the deck was empty. The sea seemed deathly silent then, and he could feel the rush of horror he had experienced so often on the island, that he thought he would forever be free of, returning. As soon as they were close enough Jack climbed onto the deck of the abandoned sailboat.

He found the body as soon as he stepped onto the deck, as soon as his eyes flashed towards the front of the ship. As he fell to his knees beside the body he saw out of the corner of his eye the bruises sprouting over every available inch of skin on Desmond's face.

"Desmond?" He called, tapping the hollow face, his eyes widening in horror as he noticed the blood dripping from a cut above Desmond's left eye. "Desmond?"

A loud gasp nearly sent Jack stumbling backwards. Desmond's eyes struggled to open, lingering to the side as consciousness slowly settled in. His eyelids fell over his eyes heavily; weary moans broke through raspy coughs and gasps for air, and Jack soon realized, a struggle to speak.

"Coming..." Desmond muttered through a harsh breath of air.

"What?" Jack said, his wide eyes wondering over the injuries on Desmond's face. He knew someone had to have attacked him. Someone meaning that someone else was in the ocean.

"They're coming," panic drew in every breath; his head tossed and turned side to side.

"Who's coming?" Jack said, eyes darting around Desmond's closing eyelids for an answer.

The raspy gasps for breath collapsed to haggard, heaving, struggles for air. Eyes opening the slightest, swollen bruises pushed down on Desmond's realm of vision. He turned towards Jack but the sun and his injuries forced his eyes to a final close, and Desmond pointed to Jack before his head rolled to the side, falling to darkness once more.

Jack stared at him, confused, mouth agape and desperate for further explanation, but Desmond was already too far into unconsciousness. All he could do was follow to where Desmond had pointed before his arm fell limply to his side, finger still pointed in the direction of his answer.

Looking down he realized the direction Desmond had been pointing: to the answer Jack provided for him. He had been pointing to the Dharma symbol on the scrubs.

**Author's Note:** Want to know something scary? This was almost the last chapter. For a few minutes I seriously considered making this the last chapter- leaving out the cliffhanger and just ending the story with them leaving the island. It could have worked that way, but that was before I realized all I can do with this plot that's been in my mind for awhile. I know it looks like things are about to get worse again, but everything will get better!

Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	28. History

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: **History

The horizon swirled around him in waves of sun and salt. Desmond's heavy breathing clashed roughly with the waves pounding against the sailboat. In the boat ahead of him Kate and the others sat staring back at him, waiting for an explanation. Kate's eyes even narrowed a little, giving him the slightest hint that she was actually there and momentarily freed of the hollow fear engulfing her.

Then her eyes sliced forward sharply. Juliet's hand flew to her face, shielding her from the sun and offering a view of something coming up behind him. A motor. Rushing waters.

A damp, stinging, washcloth was pressed against his face just as he heard Juliet's warning.

----

Brightness. A whiteness that was thrown at him as his eyes fluttered open and then closed. Darkness. There was no sun. Just a bright light hanging over him. Electricity...

"Kate?" His throat snapped closed at the effort, literally pushing his voice away. He swallowed and felt nothing but a dry sour taste in his mouth.

His eye peered open and closed. A cry of pain and surprise erupted through the dry cracks of his throat. They drugged him. Whoever they were...

"Kate?" He tried again, feeling tears drip painfully down skin that was covered with an icy sweat.

"Do we know who he is?" A male voice swept into his mind, and a headache burst through his mind like an earthquake.

"No. Let him tell us." A pause and a switch to a sympathetic tone: "Who are you?"

"Kate?" There was a chuckle of amusement at Jack's reply, but he could develop no other thought except concern for Kate, the question circling his mind in dizzying laps, insisting on an answer.

"Sorry," the second man replied, "but I know that can't be your name. Who are you?"

His eye cracked open, offering him a slit of a view of two men dressed in worn clothing. One of them had a rifle. He let himself fall back to darkness.

"He looks like he's been through a lot," the first man commented, "let's let him rest for a little longer."

Rather it was at their permission or because of his own exhaustion he didn't know, but soon he fell to deeper darkness where he was completely unaware of reality, giving into sleep.

----

Cold sweat. No. Thinner than sweat. Water. Someone was letting water drip down his face, like an innocent rain showers. Suddenly Jack felt the water being shoved down his throat; he swallowed just as he began to choke.

"Did you know that you've been running around with a temperature of 101?" It was the voice of the first man. Everything came back to him in dim lighting as he lifted his eyes with weary effort, once again meeting the worn clothing and rifle he remembered from earlier. The gun sat against a bookshelf beside a man in jeans and a t-shirt that was torn at the shoulders, taking notes on a clipboard. He sounded impressed. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I...I don't know."

He swallowed, pushing away the rapid breaths leaving him, whispering in his ear the memories of being in the room with Kate, talking to her after his nightmare. Reminding him that there had been a plate of food there. But he had no recollection of how long ago that had been.

"Where am I?"

The man's eyebrows furrowed; his arms crossed over his chest. He was growing a beard; the hair on his head shot out at the air in thin, greasy, black strands.

"We have some questions to ask you," a face was suddenly inches from him: serious, uncaring, "and it's very important for you to answer because if you don't...let's just say we'll consider you one of them, and you don't want that." Jack let him talk, swallowing nervously at the threat he wasn't sure he understood. One of them...one of the Others? "Starting with names. I'm Chad. Now the polite thing to do would be to give me your name in return."

"Where am I?" His weak and shattered voice broke through the dreary silence, and he could hear impatience growling beneath Chad's voice.

"That wasn't what I was hoping to hear," Chad replied, attempting to replace impatience with dry amusement, "let's try again. My name's Chad. What's yours?"

Head tilted to the side, eyes closed, he could only manage for two words to form through his muggy voice.

"Where's Kate?"

His desperation must have worked. Jack could hear his voice cracking and was aware of the breaking point he was treading. The pain was numbing now; he only felt cold stiffness, the occasional sting as he swallowed, never daring to move.

"I don't know who that is," Jack hoped his delicate state of health manipulated the man's response into honesty. If Kate wasn't there, if he was the only one...what did that mean? "So let's try a different question. What are you doing out here?"

"Plane crash," he muttered through a relaxing sigh of air. He hovered here in quiet peace, where he was beginning to know nothing but the hum of a fan somewhere near by, "crashed...on an island. Kate..."

"Was she with you?" Genuine concern.

Jack gave a feeble nod.

"How long ago was this?" Chad inquired and Jack felt the past fall heavily on his chest; the past couple of months played with his emotions, tossing him between pain, frustration, and desperation. Desperation to know what was going on. Desperation for help. If these people could help them...maybe, if somehow luck could find him, they could help them get back home. But luck seemed to be having just as much trouble finding the island as rescue was.

"Two months?" It was a question. He could only calculate time by the events that happened to them, and each of those roadblocks in what had at first seemed like a simple test of survival on this island seemed to last an entire lifetime.

"What's your name?" Chad spoke as though they were friends, as though he really was concerned about what Jack had been through. But he remembered the bruises on Desmond's face, the half-dead state he'd been left in. Was it by these same people?

He hid from panic by answering.

"Jack."

But panic rushed through the one-word response, and he was being crushed by fear, by the idea of being defeated once again. He opened his eyes and scanned the room. His eyes darted from side to side, falling on the gun each time. He caught glimpses of Chad's solemn expression, his deep pauses and silent debates.

The room was crowded with empty furniture: couches covered with white cloth, a bunkbed in the corner. An acoustic guitar sat on a stand by the bunkbed. Windows perched against the high, curved ceiling above the furniture, offering him a view of blinding white sunrays from outside.

"Well, Jack," Chad finally said; at his words Jack listened carefully, silencing the panic attack threatening to rip him apart, "when we found you you had a temperature of 101, like I said. Besides various cuts and bruises, we also discovered a couple of bones that are seriously messed up. You're dehydrated, and you're probably a shade paler than you should be. And we're guessing you didn't do this to yourself."

"The plane crash..."

"They found you, didn't they?"

Their eyes met before Jack realized what was happening. Every memory, every injury, every nightmare, every fear that he still possessed to this day drained out of him them, seeping from his eyes in thick, black, cries for help. These people could help them. Whoever they were, they could help.

"What did they do to you?" Chad said.

He caught the eagerness in his eyes and it made him feel sick. Jack looked away, staying quiet, wondering what Desmond had done to end up in such a state. His eyes closed tightly, trying to block everything away; and as he did each night, trying to block out the past couple of months, convinced it was all in his head.

"Whoever this Kate person is-" Jack opened his eyes and found Chad leaning closer to him, "I know you care about her. And I know you'll do anything to protect her. We can let you do that. If you'll help us, we can save you. And a chance for revenge...I know you've been wanting that."

A smile flashed over stained, jagged teeth.

"Revenge?" Jack repeated, in awe of the phrase, horrified of it.

They spent so much time running, escaping, that he never considered revenge. He didn't even know if he wanted revenge...he just wanted to get away from the island, as far away as possible, and never turn back.

"Jack, we've been waiting on this ship, waiting to find the island again, for sixteen years," at this turned away. Jack's eyes flashed instantly towards the rifle, but Chad turned to face the weapon, gazing out a hazy window embedded in the curved, wooden walls that trapped them in the room. "And now, finally, you came." He turned to Jack as though in awe of him, like he was some kind of savior. "Finally we have hope again. There can be justice."

"Justice for what?" Jack dared himself to ask. He swallowed, falling nervous when Chad's eyes landed on him, as though he were to blame for the past that haunted his people.

"The purge," Chad spat bitterly, "the murder of our people. Only five of us were spared, and that's because they could never find us. But now we've found them...and I can't allow the killing of an entire group of people happen without consequence. We're on our own out here, we have to fight for ourselves. And as far as I'm concerned, the fight never ended." Madness flashed in his eyes, and Jack realized with horror how determined these people were. Over the past decade they had been waiting here to get their revenge and nothing would stop them. They weren't afraid to return the crime committed against them. "So. You in?"

"Excuse me?" A dry ripple of nerves shook against his throat and he swallowed; he knew exactly what Chad meant.

"We need your help," Chad explained; he began to pace the room with an a determination that sent the ripple of nerves escaping his throat, crawling through his veins, anxiously playing against the thoughts of what these people could be planning. "It will be simple, really. But there are only five of us and dozens of them. They can't know we're coming. It will be quick, simple."

"I'm not a murderer," Jack stated.

"Neither am I," Chad replied, "but we're all one step from becoming one. After everything that's happened to us-"

"I just want to get home," Jack snapped. He was unable to comprehend the thought of becoming a murderer just because he deserved to be one. He didn't want to have to decide if that was justifiable or not.

"And you can," Chad stepped forward, not at all altered by Jack's interruption, "I promise you: if you help us we'll take you back home. We want to go home too."

Looking away, Jack grimaced at the irony. Ben was supposedly going to offer him a way home for saving someone. Now he was being offered a way home for killing. He still didn't know where Kate was or where the others from the boat were. He was supposed to take this mission alone, with these people he had just met.

But the connection between them pulled them together like long-lost brothers. These people were the people Jack had been looking for for the past couple of months. These were the people who could understand what he'd been through. They would believe him and help him because they had been through the same. Maybe they weren't the enemy...

"In case you're still hesitating," Chad said, "let me remind you that you really don't have a choice."

He held the gun in his hands with a smile of pride. Jack closed his eyes, regret already creeping into his conscience.

----

A stinging sun held her eyes open, waking her with a rude shake and a smile. Kate scrambled backwards in the sand, eyes in a frantic dance to locate Jack. When she couldn't find him she hated herself for giving in. She could have fought the hazy darkness coming over her- before, on the dock, when she could have talked to him. Instead she had given in. Completely given in. Given into the fear and guilt, emotions that swelled within her so suddenly, grabbing her and pulling her away from that tiny part of her that was still fighting, still telling herself that it all wasn't her fault.

She spotted Juliet being held back by an Other. The others: Desmond, Danielle, Alex...and Jack...she couldn't find them.

Tom. That was the name of the man standing above her.

"Hey Kate," Tom greeted brightly, "I was afraid we'd never get to see each other again."

She couldn't catch herself before collapsing into the sand. Fabric was clinging to drenched skin; she smelled of salt. Closing her eyes, Kate let the scene replay before her eyes: realizing that Jack was on Desmond's sailboat, and her finally finding a way out of her daze just in time to see a cloth put over his face, see his eyes roll to a close and see him being dragged away. Next she heard the loud burst of an explosion. Flames sprouted into the air. Then gray, suffocating, burning fog and water.

And now waking up on the island, back with the people she had escaped from.

"Let's go."

----

The room was a haunting green with shadows of black thrown against every spare inch of the grimy floors. Her eyes fell on the man curled up in the corner. Jack. Her heart pounded. Her mind reeled with apologies, concerns. One of the Others turned him onto his back; her heart fell like a dying leaf.

"Are we done with him?"

It was Desmond on the floor. His face was contorted into a shower of bruises; his arms were covered with grime and blood. He was unconscious.

"Yeah," Tom replied.

"I want to talk to Ben!"

Kate's eyes darted towards the shriek. The teenager who had been on the boat with them sat in a chair, hands tied behind her back, dried tears pouring down her face.

"That's impossible right now, thanks to your friends," Tom said. As he walked towards Alex he flashed a sarcastic grin towards Kate.

"I don't care!" The girl exclaimed. Tom untied her hands; her wrist were drying blood. "I want to know what I'm doing here! I want to know who those people are!"

She wondered if anyone else noticed the breaths leaving her, whipping the air with terrified wind.

"I'm not fighting anyone until I get an explanation!" The girl cried as Tom pulled her out of the room. "You owe it to me! You owe me answers!"

Kate swallowed as the room fell silent. Desmond and Alex had been taken out, leaving only her to learn why they had been brought here. The teenager's pleading cries echoed through the room, tearing against horrifying scenarios of what could be happening to Jack. She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together tightly, trying to shake away the mental images she frightened herself with.

But it was their second breakout from captivity, and Jack had left Ben's life in danger. A tear trailed down her face; with a damp hand she wiped it away just as Tom entered the room again. Thin blood traced her knuckles. Holding her hand against her worn jeans she tried not to shiver. Suddenly the room was cold, filled with a stuffy breeze that shook against the lingering water on her skin.

"You're a fugitive, Kate," Tom announced as he re-entered, "so I assume you can use a gun. Meaning, if we tell you to shoot someone, you could."

"What are you talking about?" Kate demanded.

"I'll assume that's a yes." He leaned against the wall across from her, his arms folded over his chest. "When they come I'll come and get you, and you don't get to ask questions. Just know that if you see one of them, you shoot."

"One of who?"

"What part of 'no questions' don't you get?" Tom snapped.

As he turned to leave Kate felt the tension scattering behind him. Whatever this war was it wasn't something the Others were prepared for...it wasn't a test or a joke. This was real; they were serious.

"How do I know who to shoot at?" She called after him.

Tom stopped, his hand lingering on the door. Ben would be very disappointed, she thought, if he knew how horrible Tom was at keeping secrets. He was weak. The thought of war scared him so much that fear was surfacing quickly, and as he hid it the fear multiplied in view of anyone around him.

"You'll know," he replied with an edge of uncertainty in his voice, "it'll be the ones that everyone's shooting at."

She swallowed as the door shut behind him. She wondered if he told the same thing to the teenager, and maybe even Jack. And she wondered if Jack agreed to help.

----

The oatmeal was poured out of a Dharma Initiative package, and he noticed the symbol of the swan on the oatmeal was different from the symbol of a flame on the bottle of orange juice. A bowl and glass was pushed across the table to him without explanation, and Chad and the other man who had been there when he woke up sat across from him. The small wooden table sat in the back of the room where he'd woken up where only a few sacks of supplies sat on the shelves nearest to them. He hadn't been allowed on the deck of the ship.

"This is Andy," Chad said, pointing at his friend, who nodded.

"Hey," Andy replied quietly; he thought he heard guilt mixed in with shyness that hadn't been in the man's voice earlier.

They sat quietly as Jack began eating. His stomach tightened at the thought of food, at first protesting with a nauseating spin. But as the warmth of the food soothed the dryness in his throat he felt desperately hungry, grateful to have something to eat.

"Thanks," he said before quickly taking another opportunity to eat another spoonful of the oatmeal.

"We don't have much," Andy apologized.

Jack shook his head.

"It's fine."

Out of the corner of his eye Chad and Andy exchanged glasses. They were strikingly similar in appearance, he realized, each with greasy, black hair that fell to the right, bangs hovering slightly below their eyes in the same way. Two identical pairs of uncertain brown eyes gazed at him with the same hesitation.

"Are the other survivors your family too?"

Nerves turned to shared looks of surprise, highlighting the same rays in their eyes.

"No," Chad replied, voice a little shaky, "we're brothers. Our family lives in Milwaukee...if they haven't gotten to them."

He looked down, his eyes growing deep with a forbidden terror he had obviously been trying to push away. Andy looked away, hiding away the same fear.

"Tell me what happened," Jack pleaded, eager to sympathize with some of the only people he knew who might be able to understand what he'd been through, "what happened between your people and theirs?"

Another glance was exchanged between the brothers. Andy immediately looked away. He was the younger one, Jack thought. Or if they were twins, Chad was the leader. Andy was more than willing to let Chad make the decisions and handle the reality of what was happening. And who could blame him?

"In '78 a group called the Dharma Initiative recruited us," Chad began, eyes lingering on the surface of the table; Jack took another bite of the oatmeal, respecting the uneasiness of the story, "we'd made this discovery...man, we thought we were geniuses. We were studying electromagnetism and, well...none of it matters now." The excitement that moments ago had snuck in and taken over his weary expression collapsed into a sad smile, and Jack once again felt an instinct to be able to relate to these two, even to trust them. "Anyway, it was cool at first. They built this whole station, we did experiments. Everything was very secretive; no one knew about the island. But there was a rival group. The hostiles. They didn't approve of some of the Initiative's methods, their ethics.

Everyone thought the Initiative could handle the war. We had amazing defenses, we knew the island. But not like they did. Not to mention they had one thing that we didn't: a traitor. Benjamin Linus."

Jack's heart leapt at the name, and the surprise must have flashed in his eyes.

"You recognize the name?" Chad asked him. Jack nodded. Benjamin Linus. The man responsible for all of this. Everything. "Well you have our permission to hate him. He killed our people. He gave them the codes, broke down all security. He even killed his own father."

Even after knowing all that Ben was capable of, Jack felt an unmanageable amount of terror stirring within him. He now knew how relentless Ben was, how hungry he was for power, possibly for the revenge he thought he deserved. He sat on his throne and demanded for the world to answer to him, using smooth, intimidating threats and indulgence of confidence to create the fear that had become so real to them. Jack felt sick. He felt like a fool, like he should have figured out Ben long ago...he was angry at himself for falling for it all, for accepting his own dose of fear that Ben threw at him behind those satisfied grins.

"He gave everything we had to the hostiles and they took over," Chad continued, shaking with hatred, "we were the ones who escaped. We were off island. We hid."

"We were cowards."

Both Jack and Chad turned to Andy, whose eyes were still pinned in the distance, rage now pouring out of him: self-hatred that shook him back into silence, into the reveries of guilt freezing his mind.

"We were surviving," Chad said, turning back to Jack. This was something he had no doubt been saying since the war to convince himself, his brother, and their friends to fight the survivor's guilt threatening to take over them, "we hid until we lost the island."

"How-"

"No one can see the island," Chad explained, "it's complicated, but the compass barings...it's all too difficult. We've been trying for years to find a way back, and we haven't been able to. Until now. Last week it appeared. We just stumbled upon it like it had been waiting for us all these years. We were back."

A grin crept into Chad's story, and Jack shivered as a shadow of the grin reminded him of Ben. The determination, the desire to inflict fear and pain on their choice of victims. There was a plan these people had been developing for years, and Jack was reminded with shaken memory that they intended for him to help.

"So, Jack," Chad said; he recognized the confidence in the lingering grin, "what's your story?"

Jack swallowed, his eyes drifting to the bowl of food awaiting to be finished. He took another bite of the oatmeal, angry for letting Chad so easily gain his sympathy. Even if they were expecting him to fight with them, he knew Chad knew exactly what to say to gain Jack's sympathy. He knew in the way Chad's eyes had sunken into the present, connected with his in a shared past of trauma caused by a mutual enemy. Did he trust him enough to tell him everything? The past two months danced wearily in his memory, wounded and exhausted, turning away as he conjured stories of those memories to be shared. He thought of Kate, injured, missing, possibly...dead. He felt sick. Was it right to tell their story without her there? The calculation of memory would have to be carefully devised; he would tell just enough for them to understand. Even as he wanted to distance himself and not be so easily captured by sympathy, he knew they were already satisfied by what they saw in him.

"Our plane crashed," Jack began, already having to swallow away the pain of memory, "we were the only survivors. For awhile it was pretty much just us waiting for rescue. They came a few weeks in...one of them came, claiming to be a survivor of the crash. He wasn't." His eyes flashed towards Chad, whose face was now silent, listening to his story as Jack did theirs, yearning for information, already settled in a gathered amount of sympathy. "They held us captive, separated from each other. But it turned out that Ben had a plan. Turns out he has a tumor on his spine. And I happen to be a spinal surgeon-" a glimpse of surprise from Chad interrupted him, but no questions were asked, "he was wanting me to operate on him. To save his life.

That was the first time they caught us. We managed to escape, but not before one of them decided to break my arm. It was a revenge thing." He caught Chad glancing towards his right wrist and the skin and bone still clotted with bruises of blue, purple, and black tie-dye. "The second time I took one of them captive. I had it all planned out. I was going to ensure our safety and even a way off the island. But...it wasn't as easy as I thought. They took us captive for a second time, and that brought us to our escape today. And we actually got off the island. We ran during the surgery, with me threatening Ben's life in order to make sure we actually did get off the island. It's what they promised us, but I had to make sure we got to go home. And we were going to. We were off the island, actually getting to go home. Until you found us."

He couldn't bring himself to hold back the glare in his flaming eyes and was even pleased when Chad shrunk with guilt.

"And I was just wondering," he added as the thought occurred to him, "if there are only five of you and you're wanting to start a war, why not just take all of us? There were six of us on that boat."

"Because there were six of you and five of us," Chad said, "how were we supposed to know how strong or weak you were? But we decided that if we wanted your help we wanted the one guy who was brave enough to check out that sailboat. Honestly, Jack, I don't know if your friends are okay. But after hearing your story- and don't think I don't know how much you must have left out- and knowing what kind of person Benjamin Linus is, I hope they're okay. But sixteen years, Jack. We've been waiting for too long. Don't tell me that after all you've been through there isn't a part of you that wants revenge, that wants Benjamin Linus and his people to pay for what they did to you. To Kate."

The rage boiled with a gust of wind that blew him to his feet, and suddenly his hands were wrapped around Chad's neck. Andy was on his feet, too stunned to think.

"We were going to escape!" Jack yelled. "We were going home! All you want to do is to put us back on that island, and after all we did to get off, do you really think I'm going to help you? You have know idea what I've been through! Don't even think we're the same!"

Chad only stared at him eyes of fury, anger cumulating by the moment.

"We're good people, Jack," he spat, his determination unharmed by the restraint of air, "I'm sorry. Maybe you've been hurt too much to recognize that there are still good people out there."

Chad's back connected violently with the ground as Jack let go. He didn't believe them. He wasn't ready to accept his duty to get revenge, to kill. But his plans weren't coming together quickly enough. He needed to find Kate. She could have gotten onto the sailboat. She could have drifted back to the island. Anger clouded his eyes as Chad stared at him.

"Help us, Jack," Chad said, filling his raspy breaths with an edge of confidence, outlined with the determination he had so steadily built.

A click broke the air of hope around him. The thought he let develop that he might actually be able to get out of this snapped in half. The rifle was pointed at his head.

"Help us."

He thought he could still sense the hesitation and haunting reality that had taken over Andy earlier, but that fear was being replaced with a pounding sensation of desire, the thought of revenge that danced darkly in his eyes, bringing a final satisfied grin to his brother's face.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	29. The Mission

On An Island

Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Author's Note:** I'm sooooo sorry for the wait! I know I've been neglecting this story more than my others, and partly with the same excuse. I agreed to write a story for a Psych fanfic website and it had to be posted by a certain date. I thought I could handle four stories. I was wrong. Also, I've been trying to figure out the best way to continue this, and it didn't even occur to me until awhile ago that I should keep following the show like I did before. Things might not be exactly the same, but watching the show did help in deciding what should happen next. Now that this part of the season is almost over hopefully I'll have plenty more ideas about what to write, but I already have this and maybe the next chapter planned. I'm sooooo sorry about the wait! I'll do my best to make sure you never have to wait that long again. It's just uncalledfor. I'm sorry, it was a mistake on my part, and I'm truly thankful for those of you who reviewed during that time and who have been waiting for a new chapter.

**SPOILER WARNING!**: This means that some of what happens **has already happened** in **season four**! 

**Disclaimer: **The flashback in this chapter comes from "White Rabbit". That episode wasn't written by me. 

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:** The Mission

_He woke up to a warm sunlight peering down at him, cut off by the smeared windows of the cabin and pouring down only a shadow of what the humidity was really like that morning. Throwing the sheets of the bed Jack shuffled his feet along the rusted floorboards, letting the smell of nearly burnt bacon be his beacon._

_"Think you cooked that long enough?" He teased as he opened a cabinet and took out a bottle of Dharma water._

_"Not that long," his father remarked with a smirk. Jack closed the cabinet for a full view of his father standing over a kitchen table, carved with what looked like traces of jagged tree bark still lining the surface. A plate of brown-black meat sat before him. "I just killed the thing this morning."_

_"Suddenly I've lost my appetite," Jack muttered as he sank into a chair._

_Holding his head in his hands he closed his eyes, trying to block out the morning and find his way back to sleep. His head was pounding, he could feel relief radiating through him at the mere effort of closing his eyes._

_"By the way, Kate called," his father said. Jack looked up to see a satellite phone sitting on the table that hadn't been there before. It was as though it were waiting for him... "she wants to see you again."_

_"I don't know..."_

_He didn't really know what else to say. Things between the two of them right now were just...strange. He thought that once things were back to normal, once they were given a chance at the life they deserved, everything would be fine. He could truly see how they felt about each other. And right now he just felt...he felt like he never wanted to see her again. He was avoiding her._

_Looking up, Jack watched as his father settled into a rocking chair and picked up one of the pieces of bacon. He took a bite and smiled._

_"I always knew I was the better cook in the family."_

A sharp breath of air left him as Jack woke up to a crowded room. It was a storage area turned hospital room; he caught the machines beeping loudly beside him hooked to a plug that disappeared under some fallen drapes once it hit the floor. His eyes traveled back up to find Chad once again taking notes.

"Your fever's down," Chad commented, flipping to the previous page in a stack of notes. Jack's eyes narrowed, hoping to somehow be able to see through the clipboard and find what caught a dozen pages worth of note's interest from Chad. "Your wounds are healing nicely. It seems that you're only probably is that you've been running around in the woods getting hurt without a doctor nearby. Oh, wait." He looked up and smiled.

Jack's eyes only darkened as Chad's grin grew, the only one amused at his joke.

"You should be ready to head out with us by evening," Chad added.

Turning, he casually placed the notepad on a shelf behind him. Jack waited, knowing that surely, he would get an explanation. They didn't really expect him to blindly go with them...

But Chad only turned towards the machines and started adjusting the knobs.

"All of this wasn't really necessary," Chad said, "we just wanted to make sure everything would go perfectly..."

"Everything meaning what?" Jack inquired.

Chad smiled again.

"Our trip to the island."

Lightheaded, he fell back into the stiff pillows, almost mistaking them for the rocks in the caves. 

"Like I said, Jack," Chad's final stops around the room made it seem like his voice was far away, echoing, distant, dizzying, "after all this time, can you seriously tell me that you do not want revenge?"

"If you think I'm a murderer then you have no idea of what you're talking about."

Footsteps growing father away, a door creaked open and Jack braced himself for being alone, wondering if this was just another issue of captivity...

"I'll get Meg to bring you some food on the way to the lab," Chad commented as he stepped into some kind of hallway.

Who was Meg? And a lab...

"What lab?" Jack managed before Chad escaped.

"What do you think a group of scientist are doing out in the middle of the ocean?" Chad called back, sounding amused, and almost proud...

Suddenly Jack didn't want an answer to his question. As he adjusted his eyes to the short ceiling Jack realized just how crowded the room was. Getting over the fact that he was in a room over a boat meant observing that the boat was stored to last a long time, for travels that would take its occupants far away from home. It's scientist...

He wondered how it was that he could be so far from these people. The doctors, the scientist he had come across. He always considered himself one of them. All with the same goal, the same determination. What little he knew then about power, about what happened when one was given a region of the world, allowed to manipulate it into whatever they wanted. True science, he had come to realize, was nothing but horror. It was nothing but twisting the world into something it was not. Something it wasn't meant to be.

Letting his head fall to the side Jack slipped away from reality, back to his dream. Why had he been so distant from Kate? What was it that made him so terrified of seeing her?

Maybe he wasn't ready for reality. Maybe after being stuck in this horror he would never recognize the world for what it would be. He was caught in these mind games, this manipulation, and maybe that fear would never leave him. 

But one thing he knew was that he wasn't one of them. He didn't care about power or revenge. But he also knew that as long as he was alone in the middle of all of this there would never be a way out.

----

He swore the sunlight was brighter on the beach, capable of knocking one down dare they step directly into the piercing rays. Here, on the boat, he was more exposed as he stood in the middle of the ocean. Nothing surrounded them except brilliant blue waters deep enough to hide more mysteries than the island could ever dream of. Still, he thought being on the island was worse.

Out of place was one way to describe it. It was like he was a different species, and they would never understand them. These people, he knew as he looked around to each of them, would get to go home in time for Christmas and see their mothers on their birthdays. The most that would happen for him would be that he would get to go back to their beach and start over again; and it was all he could do to not give up and make that his goal. It would be too easy to accept it all, and he was tempted each time he saw one flicker of a beam of safety. But these people were his only connection to home, and he needed them twice as much as they needed him.

They never told Jack exactly where it was they were leading him. It was his first time on deck and though he wasn't exactly being led with the barrel of a dozen guns pointed at him, he may as well have been. Their eyes followed him as the workers and crew members looked up, peering threw their shaggy, stained, strands of hair to watch as he past. Jack swallowed and looked forward.

Just how long had it been since they'd last been home?

A misty breeze almost swept him off his feet just then. The air turned cooler and he was aware of his clothes suddenly turning damp, covering the muddy stains of their well-worn appearance. Jack blinked as a shouting match filled range of hearing, along with the pounding whips of a crack of air. As Jack, Chad, and Andy turned a corner the noises grew louder, almost ear-piercingly so. The cracks of air were so close that he began to feel paranoid, certain that at any moment he would be literally swept away...

"You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago!" A man in a Hawaiian pattern shirt and kakis yelled over the wind.

He ran along side of Chad, who shot:

"Sorry, injured castaway here!"

"We're supposed to be running on a very tight schedule!" The Hawaiian shirt man remarked. "You don't want them to find us out, do you?"

"They won't if you stop panicking!" Chad shouted back. "Are Lewis and Faraday ready?"

"Yeah, they've been waiting for you in the damn helicopter for fifteen minutes!"

"Good, at least they got a chance to know each other."

Suddenly Jack felt himself being shoved forward; he stumbled. Obviously he was supposed to be keeping up with what was going on. That assumed, of course, that he knew what was going on.

At least he knew one thing. There was a helicopter, that explained the cracking noise. But how...and where...

"Jack Shephard," Chad was telling the Hawaiian-shirt man, "Dr. Jack Shephard, actually."

Hawaiian-shirt man stuck out his hand and Jack cringed inside as he was forced to shake the palm of calluses and dried skin.

"Frank Lepidus." So Hawaiian-shirt man had a name. And an occupation? "I'm the pilot of this piece of crap."

Blinking against the current of wind whipping against him, Jack watched as shadows on the deck turned in counter-clockwise waves of fury, impatient and taunting as they neared.

"Be nice to it, Frank," Chad said from somewhere behind him, "this piece of crap might be saving your lives in a few hours."

"Yeah, well I wouldn't trust this chopper with the life of my goldfish," the pilot snapped, "do you have any idea how long I've spent repairing this? When was the last time it was used? Before the Cold War?"

"Cute."

"Have you ever ridden in a helicopter before, Jack?" Frank asked.

"I took pilot lessons once," Jack admitted.

He didn't mentioned it had been a suggestion to help him get over his divorce. Or the fact that he had failed miserable at the hobby.

"That's great," Frank replied with a grin, "I like this guy. See you in a little bit."

He ran ahead of him and Chad's shadow stopped. Jack quickly realized to do the same. Chad turned to him, squinting against the sunlight as he attempted to meet his eye.

"You'll be going with Frank, Charlotte, Daniel, and Naomi to the island," Chad explained, "you have a very specific mission to accomplish, so don't try and anything, but because they're not going to be very patient with you."

"Am I supposed to know what any of that means?" Jack retorted.

Chad smiled and placed a hand on Jack's shoulder; Jack stepped away. Everyone was acting like this was nothing, like whatever kind of crime they were about to commit was perfectly harmless. And they all acted like he thought this was true.

"Just do whatever they tell you, and you'll be home in no time." But Jack felt nothing at the comment. No flicker of hope, no reason to believe these people's intentions truly had anything to do with getting him and Kate rescued. "If you guys take too long we'll be sending out Miles as backup, just to stay on schedule. Here."

Chad reached behind him and took something that looked like a nineties-style cell phone out of his pocket. Anything that would get him in touch with home...

"Don't get too excited," Chad said; he felt a pit fall in his stomach as hope was cut away from him, "this phone reaches as far as across the island and about to the back of this boat. You can only use this to keep in touch with the others."

He handed Jack the phone and a pack a crew member dropped off to him. The crew member eyed Jack jealously, and he began to wonder if he was stealing someone's spot on the helicopter. 

"You probably won't have to split up," Chad went on, "but you've got your water, some food."

"What's this for?"

Panic rose within him as he pulled out a gas mask. He had a feeling that this mission was way beyond the level that he had originally imagined...though then he had no idea of what to expect. But it would have never been this.

An uncertain grin slipped across Chad's face; he obviously wasn't supposed to have to deal with that question.

"That's for later."

"Any day now!" Frank called from the pilot's seat of the helicopter.

"You've got to go," Chad said; his hand fell on Jack's shoulder once again, "don't worry, they're not as scary as they look. The most that will happen would be Faraday throwing a bunch of quantum physics crap your way."

Jack nodded, as uncertain as Chad's smile. He couldn't believe he was on a boat, about to board a helicopter, and was on his way back to the island. Even he was in a position to be able to help Kate, he didn't know where his were. His eyes scanned the deck one last time as he climbed into a seat beside a dark-skinned woman. Maybe Kate was even on the boat...they could be lying to him.

"You've been through a lot, haven't you?"

Jack turned to the woman, who offered him a smile.

"I'm Naomi." She didn't offer to shake his hand. "You look like leaving this boat is the last thing you want to do."

"You think?" Jack said, managing a dry laugh. He shook his head. "After all this time I can't believe I'm boarding a helicopter and heading back to the island."

Naomi nodded, as though it were even a possibility that she understood what he was going through. Jack looked around the helicopter. He assumed Charlotte was the woman with long red hair and freckles, sitting beside a man who looked disheveled just at the thought of trekking around an island.

"Charlotte," the red hair woman offered and held out her hand. Jack shook it, wondering what it was about her that made her less cautious than Naomi.

"Daniel," the disheveled man said with a nod.

He fought back the urge to laugh. Daniel was wearing a dress shirt and tie that rested unevenly across his chest. He thought about telling him that the island was probably the last place one would want to wear their best clothes to, but he remembered that technically, these people were still holding him captive. Even if they obviously knew nothing about the land they were about to venture to.

"I hear you're a doctor," Charlotte said with a fascinated smile, "I'm a cultural anthropologist. I find fossils so much more intriguing than digging through humans. No offense."

"You just insulted his profession," Daniel pointed out, looking at her incredulously, "how are you going to say 'no offense'."

Jack watched them, fascinated himself. It was like he was having an out of body experiences. He shouldn't be here, chatting with these people like they were talking over dinner after work. And they were talking about him, as though he were the most interesting person in the world.

"Maybe he finds saving lives more intriguing than digging up the bones of dead animals," Naomi shot with a smile.

She grinned at Jack, who offered her a half-smile of thanks. Across from the Charlotte frowned, obviously more offended then Jack had been in the first place. Daniel laughed along with the pilot up front, and suddenly Jack wanted to point out that he never asked to be defended.

"So you're a spinal surgeon?" Naomi went on. "That must be truly fascinating."

Charlotte rolled her eyes and looked out the window. They were rising above the ground now, the whipping of the wind growing stronger and stronger, more violent. The sound made him feel like something was about to happen, something that he could avoid if he wouldn't just sit there and try to ignore it...

"Yeah," he said, swallowing nervously, "it is. But that...it doesn't matter now."

The faces around him fell as though he had touched a delicate subject. Funny, he was the one that had suffered through surviving on the island.

"You're mom's doing fine."

He froze as his eyes landed on Daniel, who was subjected to the glaring of the other passengers. Out of the corner of his eye he even saw Frank's hands tense around the controls.

"What?" Daniel inquired. "He deserves to know!"

Charlotte and Naomi both let out frustrated sighs but Jack ignored them. Finally someone who understood.

"How do you know?" He tried, but his voice began to die out after a single breath. The rest was a helpless whisper.

"We have your file-"

"Daniel!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"It was really hard for her at first, but the people at your hospital, they did everything-"

"Shut up!"

Everyone stopped. Daniel's mouth froze, agape, for a moment before closing promptly as a gun was held at his face; the fingers wrapped around the triggered belonged to Naomi.

"We tell him nothing," she ordered, "do you need me to remind you again?"

Daniel shook his head.

"N-no," he stuttered.

But before closing his eyes and leaning his head back, his eyes caught Jack's, and Jack understood then who was on whose side. Who really want to be on this mission and who was trapped in this as badly as he was.

_"He hasn't talked to me in two months, Mom."_

_Turning away from his reflection, he met his mother's eyes. He could still remember a time when they didn't look so helpless, so desperate. All that had happened since then had left her with nothing but a reflection of who she used to be. Who their family used to be._

_"You haven't talked to him in two months."_

_He shook his head and looked away. He wasn't putting himself through this. For two months he had been trying to come to terms with the fact that his father hated him. Anyone that felt any kind of sympathy for his father had been given orders to not talk to his son. He was surprised his mother hadn't completely converted to his side..._

_"He doesn't want me to bring him back, trust me," Jack said. Or he was hiding out wherever he was just to see if Jack would come, just to see how pathetic and desperate for his father's attention his son was. And he wasn't falling for that game. "Let one of his friends do it."_

_"He doesn't have friends anymore," his mother shot. Right, because they all knew the truth now. They were all finally seeing the true pathetic excuse for a man his father was when he wasn't behind the operating table, when he was clinging to the glass of the drink he depended on to make it through every day, every hour. "Why do you think that is? He was right about you."_

_Jack turned around._

_"Right about what?"_

_He knew his mother and father were still talking- he hadn't cut her off yet- but to actually hear what he was saying...he knew then that his mother had been lying. Making things seem okay, like his father was actually beginning to feel sorry for him. It was all to make Jack not feel so sorry for himself, fool him into believing he still had a family the cared._

_"You don't understand the pressure that he's under."_

_Jack laughed. He wasn't even afraid enough to mock his mother's ignorance, her own pathetic hold she had on a marriage that failed years ago._

_"I understand pressure," Jack defended. After all, he was the only one in his family who still had a job. He had to deal with the remains his father left after being fired, including the rumors, the sidelong glares, the constant gossip. And the patients. The responsibility of having more work than ever, of being considered for his father's old position at the hospital._

_He hadn't told his family about that yet._

_"Jack, please, you know how he gets," his mother's eyes became teary and suddenly he felt his stomach churn. There was one thing he should have grown used to during the downfall of his parent's marriage, and that was seeing his mother cry. But he could never get used to it. He could never understand how the man who had once loved her so much, loved her enough to start a family, could break her down so easily. "He doesn't- he won't- take care of himself. You have to go after him."_

_Jack bit his lip. She had been lying to him. She had it under control- or she hoped that she had. He caught her change, her hesitation. It was the closest thing his mother had given to a cry of help since she left them twenty years ago. Now things hadn't gotten any better...she was fooling herself thinking she could fix things, and now the real pressure on the family had fallen on her. Because he was ready to give up. He was ready to wait it out, fooled himself that things would simply fall back into place._

_But they wouldn't. And he had to help, or else there was no hope. Not for his family, not for him. Not for his mother. Not for his father. They both still cared about his father, even if he only admitted it to himself in the dark of night, when he was no longer under the pressure to pretend that things were okay. To lie at work and say that things were fine at home, that his father was getting help. His father was doing nothing but running away, just like his mother had. And if they really did care about each other, it would only damage them more._

_"Where is he?" Jack replied at last, drawing in a deep breath._

_This was the final test. He would face his father, confront him. He had been torn apart from too many families over the past few years. He needed something to hold onto, a glue to begin piecing his life together with._

_"Australia."_

He still knew that was the last answer he had expected. He still didn't understand. Why had his father gone all the way across the world to hide from his son? To prove a point, like Jack thought back then? To manipulate his son into thinking he cared for him? Maybe he could have then convinced everyone that that love was real. About as real as how much Naomi and her people cared about him now...

Jack gazed over the glass windows of the helicopter as the island came closer to view. He had been in this same position, two months ago, when he felt the jerk of turbulence. When he convinced himself and the woman beside him- Rose- that everything would be okay.

He blinked and looked away. Thinking back to that day...he sometimes wondered how he could remember it all. How he could possess that much strength to hold all this in. It was then that it all became too much. Like now...

"You okay?" Daniel asked him.

Jack looked up. He'd almost forgotten that he might have one friend on this helicopter.

"Yeah-"

Then it happened. Again, just like before, just like too months ago. The night had grown dark around them long ago. Why it had taken them so long to fly to the island he didn't know, he hadn't asked...

"Frank!" Charlotte cried from across from him.

"It's okay!" Frank called back. "Just hold on!"

His heart was beating out of control, a ping pong ball that was repeatedly being hit against a wall. The world spun inside him, he could feel the days, the memories turning. Glimpses of Kate's smiling face, of her tears, of being at the beach, of telling his mother that he would bring his father home...

"Are you listening to me?"

Jack looked up to find Daniel shouting at him, holding out to him what looked like some kind of black backpack.

"You need to put this on!" Daniel yelled over the wind that was pounding against them. Jack felt the helicopter rock back and forth, jerking like a child was pulling on a rocking chair. "Do you know how to use a parachute?"

"No-"

Wind cut him off, stealing his breath, even though he knew that was impossible. They hadn't crashed yet. Maybe this time he would live through it all; he wouldn't be given the relief of blacking out, an escape from the screams and chaos.

Somewhere far away, Charlotte was screaming...

"I thought you took flying lessons!" Frank yelled from the first seat.

"I dropped out."

Jack cringed, hoping his previous failures wouldn't endanger them all.

"That's why you never do anything half-way!" Frank cried.

"Listen-" Daniel began, sighing and explaining to him in a lower, calmer, voice how to operate the parachute.

Before he knew what was happening the side wall of the helicopter was being pushed open, and Charlotte jumped out. Jack watched in horror as her body floated through the sky, falling through the clouds. Then, somewhere far below, a huge umbrella-looking sheet appeared above her, and her ascend slowed. 

He wouldn't be about to do it. 

He was about to die.

"Good luck," Daniel whispered to him over the wind as he followed Naomi out of the helicopter.

It was all up to him...

"Are you going to jump or what?" Frank called from up front.

Jack noticed that he wasn't making any effort to get out of the vehicle. Maybe he could just stay here. He'd rather take the crash than a fall through the sky.

"What's the other option?" Jack yelled back.

"Death!"

He thought he might be sick. The chopper jerked at that point, throwing them even more off-course, and Jack had to catch himself by clinging onto the sides of the door. He was going to fall, he wouldn't even be ready...

"Just be calm!" Frank called to him. Easy for him to say, he completed the flying classes... "And jump!"

At that moment the chopper jerked again and Jack was falling. It was a cold rush to the bottom, to the surface where he knew any moment he would splatter. He only hope Kate wouldn't see, would never find him...

The wind rushed against him and Jack wondered how it was that his body was that light. It was like the atmosphere was flying straight through him, like he was a ghost. Maybe he was already dead. Darkness engulfed him, clouds swirled around him. Lightning struck nearby.

Right by him...

His hands shook as he searched for the lever Daniel told him to pull. Closing his eyes tightly, Jack pulled and fell. He was spinning- should he be spinning?- like he was on the roller coaster from hell. It would never stop, never let up, not even for him to breath. Not it was like that ping pong ball of a heart had been trapped against the wall. Opening his mouth was a very painful and tiring effort, and against the wind made him feel like he might throw up. But he needed to breathe. He needed to land. He needed it all to stop. He needed to live, to see Kate again, to be rescued...

Suddenly his stomach lurched and he felt his head snap forward. His heart was pounding out of control, as though trying to jump out of him for relief. He breathed in large gulps of air, felt tears pouring out of his eyes against the pull of the sharp, cold, wind. 

He was slowing down. 

Slowing down and heading straight for the jungle...

He tried to steer himself towards the beach, any part of the beach, but the wind wiped right through him and insisted on landing in the jungle. He felt sick but it was as though he was stuck in time as he neared the island. Attempting to go towards the beach only landed him with ringing ears and a spinning head. The first rip of a tree branch jerked the whipping wind around him, stilling the night's air as he crashed through a collection of tree limbs. Closing his eyes, Jack ignored the strength that was being pulled from him. Even though his muscles felt tight and breath even tighter, he still felt his skin being ripped from him, the world crashing around him until his knees connected with something tight and he fell forward.

His eyes were already closed when he lost conscious.

----

They were waiting in a clear, nearly vacant, building on the outskirts of the Others' camp. Kate sat along with Tom and a few Others she didn't know. Neither the girl from before nor Desmond were present. Tom was waiting for a call from his walkie-talkie, a rifle rested at his side. Kate had been given a plate of some fruit and vegetables- somehow they had found out that she was vegetarian- but the food remained untouched, its only purpose being to allow her an absent-minded escape from reality as she pushed the green beans around the mashed potatoes.

"That's disgusting," Tom commented after what felt like hours of silence, "I think I did that when I was five."

"And I stopped making fun of people when I was four," Kate replied coldly as she sat her fork down.

"I'm sure Jack appreciates you wasting food," one of the Others, who she had never even seen before, remarked, "he could be out there, stranded somewhere-"

"Greg!" Tom hissed.

Kate shot a warning glare towards the Other and wished desperately that she had a weapon. These people didn't know anything about her and Jack and yet they acted like they controlled fate. Tom promised earlier that she would have at least a 9mm for their pursue of...whoever these people were...but wherever that weapon was now it was hidden from her sight.

"Tell me the truth," Kate said, trying to appear as calm and hopeful as possible. She didn't want to intimidate them; she just wanted answers. "Do you know where he is?"

"No," Tom said, flipping his rifle from one hand to the next, "and I'm telling the truth."

Just then a crackling noise broke through the darkness of the room, and through the moonlight Tom held his walkie-talkie to his ear.

"The chopper just crashed!" Ben's voice exclaimed, as though he were calling out that his team won the game.

"Okay, we're on it."

Kate stood up as Tom and the Others did, wondering how soon it would be before she was given a weapon. The sooner that was, the sooner she would have control again. Or at least the sooner she could feel like she wasn't a captive.

"And Tom," Ben said, sounding as though he were keeping himself from being too excited, "don't stop for anything. They're probably hurt. They'll be easier to catch that way."

Kate couldn't help but to reveal the horrifying sickness she felt at the comment. But Tom barely seemed bothered by the ruthlessness of Ben's orders; at least not enough to do something about it.

"Alright," was all he said before turning off the walkie.

"We're meeting Ben at the barracks," Tom said as he threw his rifle over his shoulders.

"What then?" Kate asked as she hurried to keep up with Tom and the Others.

"You'll see."

----

Jack heard a groan as he came too, and his immediate fear was that someone had found him. He would be a captive again, just like that, without a chance. Swallowing painfully, cringing at the dryness of his throat, Jack forced his eyes opened to find his newest captor.

Only darkness greeted him. Darkness and the stale, vile taste of something dry and hard. 

Sitting up in a fit of spitting, Jack groaned again as he lifted himself out of the dry pool of mud he had been thrown into. He looked up to see that part of his parachute had been caught in a tree, leaving him with a good five or six foot drop. His knees felt sore and stung, and as he shifted to sit more comfortably on the ground, he saw that the holes that had been developing in the knees of his jeans had torn away completely to revealed scratched and scarred skin. Sighing, Jack closed his eyes, holding his head in his hands.

His head was pounding. He could still hear the wind whipping around him though all he felt was still night. As he brushed his hands away from his face he brought back traces of blood. 

But it was dark. And he was the only one who had made it to this part of the island, meaning that he was alone. 

His eye caught a pack laying nearby, and Jack remembered the supplies he'd been given 'for later'. Wincing, Jack leaned over and unzipped the pack. As he attacked the first few swallows of water he reached for the Satellite phone, hoping that they had been lying to him. They could have very easily have been lying...

It seemed silly to call 9-1-1 now. What was he supposed to say? That he'd survived a plane crash a couple of months ago, had been tortured by a French woman who had been on that same island for sixteen years and kidnapped multiple times by people who may have been living there for even longer? And now he had just jumped out of a helicopter, and he didn't even know who the hell those people would be? But it was worth a try. It was the first step to a connection with home.

But that connection was an eruption of alien-sounding buzzes and snaps. Jack turned off the phone, terrified that he had done something to mess it up. The least he could do now was try to get in touch with one of the other freighter people. Maybe he would get lucky, maybe Daniel would answer.

He turned on the phone and pushed the first few buttons he could find.

"Hello?"

Jack ended the call with a snap of one of the buttons. Ben's voice startled him so much that panic easily rose again, sending fear coursing through his veins like an out of control speedway of possibilities; possibilities resulting in him being in a far worse position than he could have imagined himself in.

The phone rang. At first he was confused, he didn't know what was happening. He just stared at the Satellite phone. Phones weren't supposed to ring on the island. They weren't supposed to work. And they certainly weren't supposed to answer to Benjamin Linus.

But he had already been caught, and they told him that the phones had tracking devices. If Ben could answer one of his calls, he could just as easily be able to find him. Trembling, he answered.

"Jack?" Ben asked.

Jack couldn't say anything. He didn't want it to be real. He didn't want hope to end, again...he was supposed to be able to get to that boat and be rescued. He couldn't get mixed up with Ben and his people again. This was ruining everything...

"Jack, I know you're there, and I'm offering you help," Ben said. Jack listened but remained silent. "I know what those people are going to do, and I know the results that will have. Obviously they've found you and want your help, and I'm offering you a way out of that. You're not a murderer, Jack."

His breath leaped; hope rushed through him as moment by moment, he allowed himself to believe Ben. Just to see what he had to offer. Because obviously Ben was one of the only people he'd met in the past few hours that had any idea of who he was. As strange as that was...

"I also know that Kate's here, with us, if that gives you any relief."

A smile slipped across his face. How odd that they could both disappear of the face of the planet and end up in the same place. But she was there, he knew where to find her.

"And I'm willing to give both you and her a second chance at our previous deal if you're willing to cooperate," the previous deal...do the surgery and get rescued. If Ben was that desperate, he was worth listening to. "Do you remember our previous deal?"

Swallowing, he opened his dry, cracked, lips and croaked out a weary answer:

"Yeah."

"Good," Ben said, sounding honestly relieved, "all you have to do is follow these orders, none of which are nearly as intense as to what they're wanting you to do, and you'll be home in no time. I promise you that, Jack."

----

Kate watched as Ben talked to someone on the other end of a Satellite phone. Her eyes were wide, fascinated at the site of civilization that she hadn't seen in months. A connection to the outside world...

She straightened, setting her face as blank, unaffected, as Ben pushed down the antenna and walked back over to where they were waiting by the sonar fence. 

"Ready to go?" He asked the group.

The Others nodded, but Kate still wasn't as convinced.

"How do you know all this?" Kate asked. "What they're going to do, where they are?"

Ben grinned as he handed her the Satellite phone.

"Because one of them is working for me."

**Post-chapter disclaimer: **That last line was based on Ben's line from "Confirmed Dead". Is it the same man that Ben supposedly has in the show? I wonder...

Until next time...

October Sky


	30. The Spy

On An Island

Chapter Thirty

**Chapter Thirty:** The Spy

He wished the crickets would just shut up. His mind buzzed like a freight train was speeding back and forth beside him and he didn't understand, because waking up from unconsciousness had become one thing he was good at on this island. This time the pain seemed to travel with him, through every footstep in the darkness, through every rush of rainfall as he felt himself pounded on as though the heavens were demanding that he'd finally take a shower. But he had to run. He had to run and find somewhere to go, had to figure out what he was doing.

Helping Ben was making a deal with the devil. As long as he was on this island, where nothing else seemed to exist except the world directly around him, the north side of the island- where _they_ resided- was hell and the ocean he had once been so used to staring out at, waking up to, was the heavens he had long debated about. Now he gave anything to give in, to get away. To find salvation, forgiveness, redemption, hope. Freedom. Safety. Family. He wanted what he never thought he had; he wanted everything that lay just beyond those sandy beach, just beyond where the tide meet the sand, washing them away. Just beyond where he had been able to sit with Kate so few times in his life.

Rain pounded around him like lightening striking the head of the train, and if the world didn't stop crashing around him soon he would have to give into disorientation. This was precisely the reason why Kate had been the one who would look for fruit in the morning, who would lead them home once they escaped their latest obstacle. Now he was lost and it was he who had to lead them home. The rain poured around him like ash, blinding the interstate in front of him. He tried to remember what driving felt like, what it felt like to have the steering wheel wrapped around his hands, to have the world stretched out in front of him.

Freedom was whatever land lay behind him. Freedom was the path he should be running to, taking to reach the other side of the island. But he knew Kate would never escape from his mind. She would never leave him. He could never leave her.

He found the cabin after what seemed like a night full of mistaken trails, stumbles, and sputters of breath in the cold rain. The building was there to him as a beacon standing in the jungle, fading into view as a run down truck stop on the side of the road. A help center; a welcoming center.

The wooden door tore at his hands as he jerked open the cabin door. He was afraid the effort would tear the door off its frame, but as antique things seemed to do, it remained untouchable. He staggered into the room, slipped on the unfamiliar feeling of wooden floors, and had to grasp a dark table for balance. Standing there he panted for breath, invisible in the darkness of the house.

No one was home. There was no creak of a tile, not opening of a door. He was pretty sure the cabin wasn't even big enough for adjacent rooms. But then, there had to be...

Looking around, Jack blinked through the rain that still washed over him in the moonlight. It was the cabin in his dream. This was the table that his father sat down at. That was the counter he made breakfast on. The small hallway Jack entered after waking up, like it was an average day before work. Like they were a family...

Heartbreak tore him apart and he felt his chest rip into two. A gulp of air subside his sudden intake of sharp, jagged breaths, and he fought to calm down. These instances hadn't come to him in so long...not since he could sleep alone at the caves, or in the hatch, where no one would notice him waking up in cold sweats in the middle of the night, in tears or in the same jagged breathing patterns. He would hide where no one could see the sudden shade of white his face turned as he thought of his father; they couldn't hear the pounding of his heart or feel the ache of homesickness that seemed to eat him to pieces until he was left standing, fragile, like a soft blow to kill candlelight could knock him over. It was that same feeling now as he stood clinging to the table, as he remembered how young and healthy his father's face looked in the sunlight. How he smiled, how relieved he looked to see his son awaken for another morning.

He remembered the pack he had the man from the boat gave him. That seems like a different world now, seeing the horizon from the ocean's point of view. Watching the island go by like it was a simple piece of land. Being in the sun, watching as waves curled beneath them, rocking them slightly as men who went home every few days or weeks gave orders to him.

The flashlight came to him first as his hand fell in the dark pack. He took that out along with the water and thought about the energy bars stored beside the water. It was a common feeling of guilt that came over him in each of these situations when he seemed to be given the advantage; when his situation was more favorable than Kate's. He closed the bag and left it sitting on the table, where he stared as he opened the water, thinking of how proud his father had been of the breakfast he made.

_"I just killed it this morning."_

Jack cringed at the sound of his voice. For so long he had been trying to hold onto it, trying to hold onto the things that he said that mattered. And even what didn't matter...he remembered him giving the simplest of orders at work. He remembered the times he stepped in and helped with a surgery, sincere. Jack felt the tears sting at his eyes just before one dripped onto his cheek, catching the drying rain as it rushed to the floor.

He trembled as he tried to turn on the flashlight, finding the plastic device more slippery and complicated than it should have been. He tried once to push the button forward but was too weak. He tried twice and light illuminated the room.

Pots, pans, and a picture of a pale dog were all he saw before the voices began. Yelling, shouting at him in confusing cries for help. Wind rushed around him in nightmarish gust. Pots and pans clashed; he thought he smelled something burning but there was no fire.

Jack stepped back at the sudden swirl of activity. Someone was trying to talk to him. The chair at the edge of the table, a rocking chair, was shaking back and forth like a child was pulling on it. He watched, mesmerized, watched as he went crazy. As he hallucinated again...

_"Jack!"_

Tom switched on her satellite phone for her and she watched as a single green dot rushed around a series of circles.

"There you go," he smiled.

"Is that who I'm looking for?" Kate asked, watching as the dot went back in forth across the screen, as though looking for a path to take. There were numbers that looked like coordinates on the top of the screen.

"No," Ben said, appearing beside her.

He waited until another green dot appeared from the left corner of the screen, moving clockwise as it backed away slowly. His finger tapped the green dot and he smiled grimly.

"That's who you're looking for."

"Who is it?" She said, following him as he led her back to where the Others were waiting for them.

"The spy." He caught her surprised reaction, and the clock started ticking as she waited for the big secret to be revealed. It had to be some kind of test. Some kind of mind game. Ben turned to her, eyes actually soft as he looked like he was trying to be honest with her. Kate only felt like she was talking to a man she should really be getting away from. "Honestly, Kate, I trust you with this task more than any of my people. With your experience, your past, there's no doubt in my mind that you're capable of doing this."

"What exactly is 'this'?" She inquired.

"Saving everyone on this island."

She hadn't doubted that he would leave her with an empty answer, and as predicted he walked over to his people, giving orders as he dropped a messenger bag around his shoulders.

"You all have your missions," Ben announced to the group. They were dedicated, loyal. Too loyal, she thought, and felt sick as she considered that they probably would have killed to be able to complete the task she was given. He was their king, the ultimate throne to respect, to seek power from. And power on this island was what one needed to not end up like her. "I urge you to complete them as soon as possible."

He turned and they seemed to understand all the unspoken warnings he meant with that. She understood that he meant to scare her. As he walked by she caught his eye, narrow and dark. Secretive and intimidating. Swallowing, Kate turned to follow the group. It was this task, this order that she was following, that made her feeling like she was too similar to them for her own good. Becoming one of them might be her way out of her situation, but as she looked around to their hard faces, vacant of anything but terror, a fear took hold of her of falling into their trance.

He didn't know why he ran at the sound of Kate's voice. Maybe it was because he knew she wasn't there. Or maybe it was because she could be outside. But he knew, he knew as soon as he grabbed the bag and took off, that she wouldn't be. She wouldn't be there as obviously as everything he just saw- and heard- never took place. He was staring at a silent cabin, sitting innocently in the night life around him. Still the freight train buzzed by.

As he walked in silence the world around him grew louder and louder, like he was walking to the center of a hollow roomed that echoed out. The rain bounced off the ground like bullets; the trees shook like fist. He held himself together with wet, worn clothing and a soggy mind, focused solely on the thought that somehow, he was helping Kate. Somehow, even though he had just made a deal with the devil. And his twin.

The rain drowned out to a mist as he hid amongst a clutter of trees that covered the muddy trail he walked. He was more alone than ever; he had no way of knowing that the direction he was going were where his answers lay. He assumed he needed to find the other people from the helicopter, who had fallen in unbeknownst parts of the island. They could be miles away, other side even, closer to their own camp.

The phone.

The thought came to him as he collapsed against a tree, the pain in his ankle heaving like a struggling heartbeat through the mud. Opening the bag he took out the phone and turned it on, mesmerized with the idea of calling home. Talking to someone he knew...

But he couldn't. The lines wouldn't reach that far. So he watched as a green dot chased around a series of circles while a stationary one remained resting against a tree. He pressed the button he thought he remembered the man from the boat telling him to, and waited.

"Hello?"

The voice was crooked and uncertain, but he spotted the voice; he could have if he had been standing a mile away, with the rain pouring over him.

"Kate?"

"Jack?" She echoed. He felt the phone begin to shake in his hands as his fingers trembled and he tightened his grip, determined not to give up now. "Where are you?"

"I- I don't know," he admitted, "somewhere in the jungle. It's raining."

He thought about telling her about the cabin but he wasn't sure yet if that hadn't just been a piece of his imagination.

And he could have sworn he hear the same hollow rainfall bouncing off her lips as she hesitated.

"How did you get a phone?" She asked cautiously, as though she didn't really want to know the answer.

Jack looked up, hoping for some clue of how to respond. He realized he should be asking her the same thing. He realized he was just as unwilling to know the truth. Breathing in he felt the mist of a stinging, salty, rainfall knock against the back of his dry throat. The taste was bitter and unwanted; he felt like spitting out everything he was holding in.

"The people who attacked me, they have this boat," Jack began, thinking that it was a lifetime ago, another planet, where this took place. Another planet where hope lay, where the sun illuminated the lives of normal people, home...here, in the black jungle with the drenched, stinging, rain he was only reminded that the ocean was a world away. He could never really touch it. He would never really be apart of that world. Maybe everything he was doing right now was useless...helping these people would get him nowhere. "They took me to it. When I came to I was in some kind of back room. They told me I had to do this, they sent me on a helicopter with-"

"Wait, back up-" he was hoping that she wouldn't ask about the part of them naming off all that was wrong with him, even though she couldn't know that, "What are they asking you to do?"

"I don't know."

Jack looked up, begging for help as his voice cracked out of helplessness. He really didn't know. He didn't know where to go, what to do. If he went and got Kate, tried to get them rescued...would it all mean something? Would they actually get somewhere or would they end up in this exact situation- apart and helpless?

"They're just...they're planning something really dangerous. We're not safe here."

The second part was hushed and only said because he needed to say it. If he couldn't be with her she at least needed to be warned.

"Where are you?" Echoed her whisper.

He could hear the crickets near her over the phone. It was surreal. It was a moment he was lost in, a moment that surely he would wake up from any second. Like every other moment on the island that was too real, too painfully real.

"Just...in the jungle," he didn't want to tell her about the cabin; about what he heard, about the dream. "I don't know where. Where are you?"

"I don't know."

They sounded so small. So lost. Caught in this world a thousand times bigger than them, filled with elements of life they could have never have been prepared for. It was like waking up on another planet and adjusting to a 300 degree colder atmosphere, with roaring wind tornadoes and the hum of space around them. Trapped, further away from the world than ever before, without the slightest bit of knowledge as to how to get home.

The only way he knew now was to help these people. These people who he lost, who wanted him to do something unthinkable.

"Look, I'll come get you." It was the only thing he knew to do. To save her and get them back. The only thoughts that had gone through his mind since day one.

"No, Jack, I can find you, I...Ben wants me to help him."

"Help you what?"

He noticed the fall in her voice as she submitted herself to something she had equally as little control over, something she equally did not want to do. Shouldn't have to do. He'd never possessed so much hatred for the world, so much confusion. He didn't even want to know what power decided that a fair turn of their lives would be to trap them in this world. He didn't even want to know how this world could exists in their own.

The night buzzed around him, falling on him. The rain pounded, the bullets exploded. Somewhere in the back of his mind Kate was screaming. He knew she was, he'd heard it so clearly...

"I don't know," she said, "track people. People from that freighter. He wants us to find them and bring them to him."

Something exploded inside him and his heart was racing. It was that fear: the terror of the future, of the ending coming soon. Again.

"I can find you," she was saying again, "we can leave-"

"Kate!"

He didn't know why she hissed her name, like he was mad at her. But the realization just crossed him that Ben could be listening in. Except he didn't want to say this. He didn't want to scare her more than she already was.

"Jack."

He winced, fell within himself, melted into sorrow, hatred, guilt, a longing, at the sound of her choked voice heaving his name. A thick breath whispering to him over the speaker, over the same crickets he was hearing now, over the rain that pounded, over the bullets that splattered against the ground, so real. He knew how much this had taken from him. He wondered if they would ever get that part of themselves back.

Somehow the rain, the jungle seeming so silent without the intrusion of Others, maybe him hopeful.

"Jack, someone's coming."

He didn't even get to reply, say something that didn't have to do with the situation they were in, before her hushed statement came to him.

"Look, Kate, you have to be careful."

He was shaking because somehow, he had a horrible feeling then of what they- the freighter people- were planning to do. And Kate was stuck in the middle of the consequences.

"Jack-"

"They have gas masks!"

He didn't mean to sound so angry, but he sounded so urgent, so desperate. He hoped she realized this, realized how much he cared. He hoped she would listen.

There was only silence afterwards, but he was fairly certain their should be a click if someone was hanging up the phone.

"You have to get somewhere safe and find something to cover your face with." He had to offer hope because this wasn't the end. He wasn't planning on it being the end. "I'll find you."

"Jack-"

"Promise me you'll do that, Kate."

"Jack," he swore she was crying now but he didn't want her to be, "be careful."

"I know," his voice was a whisper now, weak from worry, "we'll see each other again."

"I know."

"And Kate-" he paused, mind swarming with cluttered thoughts he hadn't understood for weeks, "be careful."

There was the click.

She was gone and he ruined it. He ruined his chance to say it all, everything he had been planning to say. He only stared at the phone, hoping for it to turn back on, but couldn't bring himself to call her. She had to get somewhere safe.

He ran. He had to find her. If only she had told him where, if only he had followed the sounds behind her, but he knew both couldn't have happened. He ran through the rain, through the atmosphere pushing him back with gust of wind that blew against him like cold slits in the world. He ran blindly, though he knew exactly where he was going. In his mind, he knew.

Except he realized he was picturing the caves. Warm, with running water, with shelter. The rain echoing was the sound of the bullets bouncing off the walls. Safety...it was where his father's coffin was, where he saw Kate, curled up in a corner and refusing to talk. Both of them silent, not wanting to talk about what happened to him. They never talked. It was something they would have to overcome. Something they would overcome.

He stopped because he felt himself falling. He stumbled, stepped back, and almost fell again. Almost fell into unconsciousness just registering what he was seeing: a grave. A massive grave with dozens, maybe hundreds because who knew how deep it went, of drenched bodies. Skeletons. Skeletons...like their lives never mattered. Like they could just lie in the rain, meaningless, and he felt so guilty, so sorry for them, that he felt emptiness crawl up his stomach at a sickening fashion, reaching his throat and threatening to release itself...

"Oh God."

He turned at the voice and only wasn't afraid because he knew it was Daniel. The man was soaked to the bone, hair hanging against his dripping wet forehead like it was pasted there with glue. This must be what Jack looked like. He was muddy, like he fell, his tie now caught in splatters of mud that decorated his blue dress shirt like the jungle had laughed at him, mocked him for mistaking its personality, its home, for such attire and demeanor.

Daniel saw the grave. Jack knew as he watched his eyes grow wide, fearful, terrified, sick.

"Excuse me-"

But Daniel didn't make it close to the depths of the trail before the fulness of his stomach released itself, coughing and splattering to the ground with rough sobs of rainfall. Jack watched, not really seeing what was going on; it was too dark.

Daniel looked at Jack, not even feeling embarrassed as he knew they were both thinking, feeling, the same thing.

"Want to go somewhere else?"

Somehow Daniel knew that Jack would follow him. Perhaps it was because of the traces of trust Jack allowed him to see when the physicist jumped to his defense. He had been grateful...and so out of place. He didn't even fit in with these people, these people from his world. The island was slowly become his world. It was taking over him, demanding things of him. His energy was seeping away. His strength, self-defense. He didn't even know where it was. He would find it at the most random times and fail at restoring it. When he and Kate met again he would work on that; would have already worked on that.

Daniel looked sick as he slowed to a stopped some ten minutes away, or so it felt like. Jack reached behind to his bag and pulled out a bottle of water.

"Thanks," Daniel replied hoarsely, taking a single swallow before handing it back.

"What happened to your stuff?" Jack asked, resting his back against a damp tree bark. The dampness made the wood not seem so sharp, but maybe it was only his mind playing tricks on him.

"Lost it in the crash," Daniel explained breathlessly, "fell...rolled. That hurts, you know."

He heard something sharp and piercing float through the air.

"Yeah," he agreed.

He realized than that he'd laughed and immediately fell to silence. It was like cursing in front of his father, only he was laughing while the rest of his mind was worrying, and the confusing that resulted resorted him to guilt until he fully understood what happened.

There was a sharp pain somewhere beneath him, where his ankle must have given out, because Jack slipped to the ground, resting there instead, trying to be casual.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asked.

"Nothing."

He closed his eyes and pretended that was true. Back home, his ankle would have stopped hurting weeks ago. On the island, the pain would live with him forever.

"Did you see any of the others?" Daniel must have bought his lie as he spoke, because Jack hurt a small thud as someone sat on the ground near him. He opened his eyes, just in case, and was relieved to find that it was still only the two of them.

Jack shook his head.

"I haven't seen anyone," he tilted his head to the side, staring hopelessly at the jungle in front of him. The same jungle surrounding him, for miles and miles, until he found out where he was and could find a beach.

He tried to remember what being on the beach was like...the rocky sand near the jungle that tease you, falling into thin wells that sank with every footstep, marking your place so that you could never get lost. Then the sand would harden to a crust when it rained, when the shallow shores of the crashing tide were refilled with salty-smelling waterfalls that pounded against the earth like silent, glorious, firecrackers. The jungle swayed softly behind them, mysterious but inviting if they ever dared to step in. He should have known the jungle wanted them, wanted their terror. It'd grown restless and had been deprived too long of victims.

He looked over at Daniel, who still looked terrified. Of course, Jack realized. He'd lost his pack. And his gas mask.

"What exactly are you people planning on doing?" Jack asked. He didn't want to begin to use their potential friendship to his advantage, but at the same time friends should lend friends answers when they've spent the past few weeks being held captive in empty animal cages, nearly abandoned hospitals, and empty offices. Were forced to do surgeries and help those holding them captive. And had gone through this before. Twice.

"Hopefully nothing..." Daniel trailed off as he looked around the jungle, afraid, white.

"These people," Jack began, "how did you meet up with them?"

Daniel sighed, as though it had been something he wondered himself.

"I don't know why they would want a physicist," he admitted, "I don't know...maybe they knew."

"Knew what?"

Daniel shook his head, like answers could just be written off like that.

A twitch in the jungle caught her attention. Tears and mud returned to her when she drew her arm across her face. The sound of the phone clicking off still echoed in her ears, and she wanted nothing more than to turn it back on, to talk to him once again. Everytime they separated it seemed like the end; it was their last chapter before they even realized they had reached an ending to the book. The story had been so intriguing, so overwhelming, that time passed as though it could flash before their eyes and history meant nothing.

"Oh, hey, Kate."

She only stared at Tom as he approached, casually and almost honestly relieved to see her. But she also noticed the gun resting at his side.

"I was just checking up on you," Tom continued, "just to see if you've found anything. Anyone."

He was lost. The thought almost made her smirk; without Ben these people were nothing. If someone could take out the heart of their group, if that's what these people Jack were with were doing, then maybe stopping them wasn't what should be on their agenda. She kept silent, storing the idea in the back of her mind.

"Just one of them," Kate said, "they've been walking east. I'm not sure if they know where they're going or not."

"Probably not," Tom smirked.

Lifting his face to the sky he let the rain roll down his cheeks, smiling grimly as he stared at the moonlight.

"Of all the nights..."

He step closer to her and on instinct she stiffened. Being around men required more trust than she was capable of finding. Just being able to talk to Jack casually was an improvement for her, she noticed. The thought of being stuck in the jungle with this man, an enemy, made her want to sink into the ground with the rainfall.

"What's that?"

She was grateful when Tom spoke up, interrupting whatever planned topic he had as he pointed to the screen on her phone. A second green dot appeared. It followed the first for a minute, or at least appeared to be following it, but the first seemed to be taking no notice. Then they both stopped. The pause seemed to be deadly, and she wondered for a moment if something along those lines had, in fact, happened. But then they raced backwards, chasing the way they came, until stopping again.

"Looks like they found each other," Tom commented as he reached for his walkie-talkie. Pressing the on-button, he announced: "Ben, we've found some of them."

"So have I," Ben replied, "Carlton is taking to her back, but don't go near yours until I get there."

Confused, Kate looked to Tom for answers, but he was as blank as she was.

"They just stopped," Tom pointed out, "what if they keep moving?"

"Then follow them," Ben shot; she noticed Tom flinch at this, just a small twitch of his eye, as though he knew to hide his reaction. "And Tom, I want him alive."

There was a ferocious click, as though staying on the phone for another minute would have ruined everything. A sharp silence followed; she wondered if she was in position to say anything.

"Let's go."

Tom wasn't nearly as confident or casual as he was a few minutes ago, and though this relieved her she found herself intrigued. Ben really was the heart of it all. On his order they could all collapse; their breath could be cut short with a single glare. But behind his back it all fell apart, and somewhere inside them, they knew they were trapped just as well as Jack and Kate were.

"Whose 'he'?" Kate inquired, falling into step beside Tom.

"We'll find out when we get there."

He woke up to something falling on him. Something splattering beside him. Jack's eyes twitched as something wet hit him, and for a moment he thought he was crying. But you couldn't cry externally...

Opening his eyes he met a rush off water and realized that despite the canopy of thick trees above them, the rainstorm still manage to seep through the leaves, as though the plants were sucking in the water and spitting it back out at them.

"When did I fall asleep?" He said, the events of the night quickly returning to him.

It wasn't hard. He dreamed an old medical student he once supervised was flying in a plane with him. Daniel was the pilot. For some reason he had to jump to the ground, which was an island. In the middle of the island sat a jail sail, displayed like an Olympic sized swimming pool, and the only reason he accepted his challenge was because he saw Kate sitting in the middle, knees drawn to her chest, staring helplessly at the jungle below her. Yet when he began falling he looked down again and noticed she wasn't there. Instead she heard him call his name, but when he looked up breath suddenly absorbed him with a rush so violent he jerked awake.

"Right after I said..." he trailed off, frowning in frustration at a set of cards sitting in front of him, "right after the last thing I said."

Jack nodded even though he didn't understand.

"I'm begin to understand why they needed a physicist," Daniel muttered as he swiped his hand across the row of cards in front of him. He let them fly into the jungle before hurrying to pick them up.

"Why?"

Daniel looked up, surprised Jack heard him.

"This island it's...insane," that, Jack was about to agree with, "and amazing."

To that he laughed.

"Try living on it for two months."

Daniel shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips like he was enjoying his own joke. The island was manipulative, and Jack felt like a cursed spirit sitting back and watching as Daniel grew used to what he thought was a dream come true. What he saw on the outside, looking down- a simple piece of land like many others they must have passed along the way- was nothing more than a glaring school, and he was sure that when they left- if they were still willing to rescue him- Daniel would see the island in a different light.

"No, this place is different," Daniel said, eyes pondering the forest like it was a chest of gold, "it's exactly what I've been looking for. Everything I've studied for."

"What exactly do you study?"

He was a little afraid to know. But he never got a chance to learn, as Daniel's mouth fell agape and then closed. Swinging to his feet, gun withdrawn, Daniel now faced his magnificent island of dreams as a determined soldier. Or a fearful potential captive.

Jack felt his breath catch sharply in his throat as he was jerked back, turned around, and he froze as he came face to face with Kate. She was holding a gun. She stared at him; equally as confused. A sudden bang sent Jack stumbling forward, throwing Kate aside as they missed a bullet being thrown at him.

"Who gave the physicist a gun?"

He didn't know if he should turn as Tom entered. He didn't know how serious Kate was about the weapon in her hands.

"I told Ben this wouldn't work!" Tom exclaimed.

"Told Ben what wouldn't work?"

Kate's face shone a full shade whiter at the sound of Ben's voice. They both froze, and suddenly the gun meant nothing. They stared at each other, sharing fear, sharing uncertainty. Their eyes locked as they twirled, awaiting their fate.

"Nothing," Tom stuttered. There was a shift of grass and earth as he took a step back.

"Tom, take Faraday back to the barracks," there was a pause, and Jack could have sworn he heard Ben smiling. He heard the smirk, the smallest flicker of laughter, and his skin turned cold as he thought of the game Ben could be setting up. He was using Kate against him, turning them against each other. Kate looked so afraid because she knew she would have to play along. "Kate, take Jack to the last clearing we passed on the way here. Richard is waiting there."

He despised the way Ben chose to use their first names, as though they knew each other casually, like he could tease them with such friendship. It was all mockery. He was mocking their situation, using it to his full advantage and spitting out every mind game he could stir up. What Jack feared was that he had already let Ben win too many rounds; he could feel it in the energy he lost, that was swept away from him with every step he took, simply following them.

He followed Kate now, silently, staring at the gun swaying stiffly by her side. A pale finger rest on its side, a safe distance from the barrel.

He couldn't think of what to say to her. He wanted to know and he didn't want to know. Somehow, she had ended up in a similar situation than he, and their marathon of these obstacles was running too perfectly for him to believe. But now that she was there he could know what was happening to her; the only thing he didn't know was what would happen to them.

"Ben said one of them is working for him," Kate began, speaking with hollow anger. She stopped. "Is it you or him?"

"Kate-"

"Is it you or him?" She turned to him, asking the question with more force.

She was actually going to think that he was betraying her...maybe he was. He sighed and wished he never woke up from that dreamed. He wished he knew what it all meant, what it all came to. Sometimes it seemed like the disturbing dreams were meant to freeze in his mind because they held answers. Why hadn't he taken the time to figure out what they meant?

"Ben called me and told me he knew I was with them," he drew in a breath; it felt so odd to be saying that, and not only because of his agreeing to work for the enemy, "he said he needed my help. He said he needed someone to tell him what they were planning, what they were doing and when they were doing it. He's afraid. What ever these people are planning...like I said, it's big."

Looking away for a moment, Jack hesitated to break the silence that followed. It was one of those weird moments where they were the only people in the world. There were no Others, no rest of the world, not even an island. And yet once they stepped out of that box they were thrown back into reality, like nothing ever happened. Anything he said here, in this moment, wouldn't matter passed the next footstep.

"They're expecting us to stop them."

Kate's voice was drawing below a whisper, broken in the stiff night's air. Jack nodded.

And if they didn't, they died. That was the game. It went unspoken between them; the fear was understood.

"Let's go," came Kate's fragile whisper, and Jack nodded again.

He watched as his feet dug into the soggy ground beneath them, catching puddles of rain that were swept away with each step. Soon the ground became lighter, the darkness fading to the jungle behind them, and the forest floor turned into thin cut grass that glowed in the moonlight. Jack looked up.

The man standing before them looked no more than forty, with short dark hair and an observant demeanor, like everything he was seeing now would determine his plan. The man- he must have been Richard- nodded as he concluded his agenda.

"So this was Ben's plan," he commented.

Jack and Kate stood side by side, her gun only remembered as she noted the similar weapon at Richard's side. He wondered what scared the Others enough to give one of their own captive's a gun. Maybe none of it mattered anymore- the surgery, the captivity. Everything the Others worked for must have dropped as soon as they saw the helicopter rising above the island. It almost made Jack smile, until he remembered what it was the freighter people were planning on doing.

"Well it doesn't matter now," Richard continued, his voice snapping with a lightness that change the scene drastically, and suddenly Jack felt like the page they were standing on now was not the same as the rest of the Others, "here. I assume they gave you one."

He nodded to Jack as he handed Kate a gas mask. She took it, eyes sinking into darkness, as though it were all just becoming very real. Jack nodded.

"Good," Richard said, nodding to himself. Everything was going according to his plan. "And you'll be needing this. The people from the helicopter have one just like it." Jack was handed a map made up of sharp cuts of an edgy mountainside, along with an X marked over a box in the corner. "You need to hurry. There are still two of them out there, and they might have a head start."

"Does Ben know you're doing this?" Kate inquired.

"What Ben doesn't know won't hurt him," Richard replies, "in fact, it's the exact opposite that will."

They only stared at him but, of course, were offered no answers.

"You're just letting us go?" Jack said; he wondered if this death threat had scared them senseless.

"And you're complaining?" Richard said with smirk. "But I wouldn't just run away. We're all in danger. It's you two that can save us. All of us. Now go."

He and Kate glanced at each other, and he wondered what she was thinking. Once they took off running, would she immediately start searching for a way back to their beach? Or would she grab the map from his hand and start following Richard's plan?

Kate's eyes snapped away as she headed into the jungle, not taking the map, not offering any clue as to what she was thinking. The jungle greeted them again with a rocky slope, and he almost tripped, narrowly avoiding a bed of tree limbs buried into the ground. Darkness surrounded them once more, rain still echoed around them.

"We're really doing this?" Jack said, watching as Kate drifted further and further ahead of him.

"Yeah."

The call was stiffened, and he knew it was the last thing she wanted to say.

"We're just going to believe them?"

He encouraged conversation because he wasn't sure just what to believe. There were so many options, so many stories that didn't connect. This island had a history that wasn't meant to be intruded on, and Jack had a feeling that by crashing here they'd become a part of it, were glued to its past and forced to coincide with it. But he couldn't become a part of this island. There still had to be a way out. He lived to long in the other world, in his world, to be thrown out of it, like the bigger plan had always been for him to live on this island. It wasn't where he belonged. It wasn't where anyone who still had even slightly human traits should be.

"Yeah."

She spoke with an impatience that warned him she knew what was coming next, but he couldn't help but to ask.

"Why?" He demanded.

"Why?" Kate repeated. She stopped and swirled around, her face glowing demonically in the drenched moonlight. "Because this is real, Jack. Why would he risk making himself an enemy to his own people if he didn't believe it? I don't know about you, but I side with anyone who doesn't believe Ben." Her eyes narrowed drastically. "Do you?"

"I-" he trailed off helplessly. Honestly, he didn't know. He didn't want to believe Ben. He wanted to believe whoever would get them off this island. Even if Ben didn't fall into that category for the moment, he was obviously afraid. Something real was going on here, something they couldn't even begin to understand. So how could he choose sides?

"I've realized a lot of things while we were separated," Kate said, stepping up to him, "one of them being that this is all very real. We can't pretend like this isn't happening, like we're going to wake up from some dream."

Anger boiled inside him, and at the same time he felt offended.

"I don't think that."

But he might have been lying. Didn't he wake up every morning, certain that he would still be in his apartment? Afterwards, though, he knew it was real. He got up and dealt with whatever was thrown their way. Kate knew that. She had been there with him.

"I just don't want you to get lost in all of this," she took another step closer to him; her face softened, and now he swore she glowed, like a soft light of guidance, a beacon to what he should be believing.

"I'm not," he replied softly, suddenly caught by her words. Her concern. Just the fact that she was there.

He was the one to take the next step forward, to lean forward as he kissed her, catching her lips with tiny swallows of gentle rainfall, swept into the air like nothing else mattered. It was another one of those moments...

They pulled away, and immediately their arms were wrapped around each other, heads rested on each other's shoulder. Jack stared at the ground for only a moment and then closed his eyes. He couldn't get lost in this. It had to remain real...as long as everything else did.

"It will all end someday," Kate said quietly, somewhere behind him even though she was leaning on him, right in front of him.

Jack held onto her, reluctant to ever let go of this moment. He knew the words she spoke must be true, because everytime they shared a moment like this, everytime they were together it seemed like there was hope. If only they could stop themselves from being pulled apart again; if only the world could stay still for one moment longer...

But he long-since learned that could never happen on this island.

"I keep telling myself that too."

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for the reviews!!

Until next time...

October Sky


	31. What I Never Knew

On An Island

Chapter Thirty-One

**Chapter Thirty-One: **What I Never Knew

"I guess these people don't believe in maps."

His breath ran cold through the whip of rainfall. The ground was shattered with a steady flow of the sharp, wet, drops, clearing away every trail they could hope to follow. Walking itself was nearly an impossible task. His shoes were coated in dry dirt and sprinkled every step with a dose of mud. They were drenched and were left to trudge through the jungle was though they were traveling sans-gravity.

"He said all we had to do was follow this path," Kate said.

Ahead of him she walked around the fallen debris of tree limbs and then stepped back, heading towards him again.

"Easy for him to say," Jack replied, "he gets to sit there while we deal with all this."

He waved his arms around the jungle, cutting through the coarse wind, the sheets of rain, and the thick night that blended in gravely with the cold rainfall. The conditions only stirred more bitterness, made the island seemed that much more cruel.

A sharp pull at his chest sent him skidding to a stop; he caught himself only just before stumbling down a hidden drop in the trail. Kate reached out for him but he forced her hand away, glaring angrily at the jungle around him.

"We've been running for weeks."

"That's why I've been wondering," Kate began. He watched as her eyes fell to the ground; her arms were wrapped tightly around her, shivering against the sting of the cold rain. "We could be going back to the beach. Why are we listening to them?"

The sympathy he felt for her just then turned to anger. Their relationship began to melt then, as though someone were holding a flame to the ice they stood on.

"Because we're going to die in a couple of hours if they don't."

"According to them," she lifted her eyes as though she were suddenly more comfortable with arguing with him, "look at what all they've done to us, Jack. They made me perform surgery on someone who wasn't even real! How can we trust them?"

He looked away, hesitant to disagree with her.

"What's the point of going back to the beach if we don't know what's out there?" He said. "Even there...it will happen all over again. Do you really think we'll just go back to the beach and everything will be fine? We have to figure out what's going on. We have to know the truth, and the only way to do that is by following this trail."

Kate grew silent, her eyes trailing the ground as she continued to follow him, her steps reluctant. The rain continued to pound against them, chilling the moment and encouraging them to keep the conversation going, if not for the sheer purpose of feeling like they were getting somewhere. Her mouth opened slowly, as if having to push herself through frozen air.

"Or we could try to get off this island."

"Oh, we're just going to get off, just like that?"

"What's going on with you?" Kate snapped; she sounded like she was having to remind herself to be worried amongst the anger building within her. "It's like you've given up, like you're afraid."

"I was on their boat," Jack began, "they had a gun pointed at me the minute I considered not going with them."

"Then they're afraid?"

"No. They're angry." He looked at her, eyes softening, hoping that she would finally understand him. She met his eyes reluctantly, hesitating before taking another step further. "Whatever they're planning they're going to go through with it no matter what, and personally I'd like to know what that means before whatever happens happens."

"Yeah, I guess," Kate replied quietly, "but really, Jack, with all that's going on, how long do you think it will be before one of them makes a mistake? They're too busy wanting to kill each other to worry about us."

"Yeah, well in that case I wouldn't want to accidently be in their way."

She resigned to silence, walking just enough behind him to remind herself that he was supposed to be leading her. Her shoulders fell forward, each step was pushed through with tremendous effort. He couldn't help but to grab her arm, stopping her before she could slip any further away.

Eyes locked together she waited, irritated, for him to explain.

"What happened to you?" He demanded softly.

"What happened to you?" She echoed, her words snapping coldly against the sharp rainfall.

He stumbled to find an answer, realizing that he was trapped. She would never answer him until she heard his story, rather it be that she wanted to judge their experiences against each other or that she wanted to feel like she wasn't being forced into an interrogation.

"I woke up on their boat," he began, less harshly, "when they found out that I had been taken by the Others they told me they had been waiting for sixteen years to revenge what they did to them."

"What did they do to them?"

He shook his head and looked away. The jagged, rotting grave flashed in his mind; it was almost enough to make him feel their anger. They had every right to be angry.

"Look, whatever they told you you don't know if it's true-"

"I saw their grave." He spun around, feeling his chest rise and fall rapidly as the confession came out of him faster than he expected. "Their people, all of them..."

A hand fell gently on his shoulder. His body shook as though her touch sent an electric shock through him, piercing him as he remembered what he saw.

"You never answered my question."

He hated that in order to change the subject he had to bring up what happened to her, which he was sure was a story he truly didn't want to hear when her eyes dropped to the ground and her and slipped from his hand like cold rubber.

"Most of my time was spent wondering where you were," she said, barely audible. The crash of the rain drowned out the last of her words but he could still see her eyes as they lingered halfway between the ground and him.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching for her hand. Her fingers were weightless ice. "It will be okay."

"Let's just go."

She dropped his hand abruptly, terrified to have to stay and confess a single comment to him. He found himself smiling a little in attempts to lighten the moment.

"Then you don't want to die?" He replied happily.

He caught her smile even if it disappeared a moment later.

--

The rain lightened the slightest as the trail beneath their feet began to widen. Jack looked above him. Gaps between branches were filled with moonlight now. Tired rain blinked in his eyes, making him feel drowsy from the constant trekking through the jungle and the constant downpour. He had started to wonder if they had been walking in circles, if any time had actually gone on since Kate found him.

"They're directions are a little far-fetched but at least they got us here."

He looked up at Kate's comment; they hadn't talked since their discussion of what happened to them. They both knew that any new conversation could easily lead back to the topics they'd rather walk through the night in rain than discuss.

She was right. A stone building peered out of the jungle at them, aging with lack of use. But neither of them missed the footsteps buried into the mud circulating around the door-frame.

"I'll go in," Jack announced, stepping closer.

"Wait!"

He winced as her fingers dug into his arm. He spun around. Her eyes were churning with desperation for him to stay, though she lied with an exterior of bravery.

"I'll go," she offered.

"No."

"I'm a fugitive, Jack!" Kate exclaimed. "I've been running from the government, I think I'm better qualified to handle these situations than you are."

"I don't care," he argued, shaking his head, "this is beyond anything we've ever dealt with before."

"And even more beyond anything you've ever dealt with," Kate pointed out, "please, Jack."

"No."

He released the bag the freighter team gave him and was finally able to open it. The fabric was clogged with rain, the zipper was cold to the touch, and he was surprised to see that the water hadn't soaked through after easily opening it. The gas mask was waiting for him, staring up at him with knowing eyes.

_You know what to do._

But instead of following the orders the invisible voice gave him he handed the mask to Kate.

"Put this on," he ordered.

She only stared at it as though she didn't know what it was for.

"Kate!" He exclaimed desperately.

"What about you?" Her eyes flashed to him.

He shook his head.

"I'll be fine-"

"Jack-"

"We're wasting time!"

She reached for his arm again but he shoved her away, storming towards the door. He got a couple of paces closer to his destination before she reached out for him again. Her softer touched urged him to turn and follow her into a kiss. The rain danced between their lips, trying to pull him away but his arm only wrapped around her, pulling her to him. He rested there, closing his eyes tightly as he did each time before they had to part, hoping that he would be able to teleport them somewhere else, looking for any excuse to not have to go forward.

The rain stopped.

They parted, staring at each other. It stopped as though someone had switched the weather off. The air grew still, forbodding, and his eyes caught the mask waiting in Kate's hands. He looked down as he stepped away, unable to bear the idea of having to say goodbye to her.

The bag dropped heavily in her hands as he handed it to her, and they both looked up. Kate unzipped it, throwing the supplies around inside until her hand landed on a miniscule tear in the fabric. He watched as pulled the fabric away to reveal a hidden compartment, inside of which lay a gun that was camouflaged against the dark fabric. She picked up the weapon, slipping it into her hands correctly, with familiarity, as she handed it to him. Her eyes warned him with a flash of her eyes before he could protest, and with silent reluctance he let the weapon drop into his hands. Traces of wet grime still stained his palm but the gun seemed untouchable lying there; he checked its bullet supply before looking up to her once more.

"Promise me that you won't come after me."

"Jack-"

"Please."

Now his eyes were as desperate as hers had been; the gun seemed out of place in their conversation. She nodded slowly, and he waited until she was hidden by the jungle before turning to the building.

The place seemed haunting now. He remembered the hospital Ben took him to and how he could just feel the soul of the building seeping through him. The door was forced open through a pool of muddy water; his footsteps instantly echoed inside. Traces of dry mud led him down a small hallway, and he almost instantly found where he needed to be.

A woman's back faced him as her hands rapidly typed codes into a keyboard. Her head was concealed with a gas mask and her eyes were stuck on the numbers cumulating on the screen before her, but she still spoke up:

"It's about time you got here."

Jack's heart leapt as he was spoken to, and even though Naomi didn't speak his name he knew she knew who he was. He hesitated to speak; suddenly he wished no one knew he was there. He wondered if there were more, if they were watching them. Did they know about Kate? But he had to know why he was there...on the screen there was a thermometer with an electronic liquid inside that rose with every keystroke. The tip was red and he could feel energy being drained around him as the liquid grew closer and closer to the red tip.

"What are you doing?"

He swallowed away his shaking voice, hoping his next question wouldn't make him as obvious.

"Justice."

Faster keystrokes. Being able to say that seemed to stir a fuel within her that sped up the pace of the thermometer; the air around him was going stale. A dying stench drifted towards him, making him feel like he too was deteriorating, and suddenly he felt deathly exposed without a gas mask in his hands.

Naomi glanced behind him, as though she read his mind.

"Do you have your mask?" She asked.

"Yeah," Jack lied.

His fingers tightened around the gun as her eyes once again were glued to the computer.

"Have you seen any of the others? Faraday, Miles?"

"No."

Speaking felt like forcing his hand through a stone. Dry and shaking, he was sure his voice was making his lies obvious. Whenever she finished what she was doing to kill them all, she wouldn't hesitate a second to leave him behind.

"Alright then," she said. He realized her keystrokes were suddenly slowing and her body was inching closer to the rim of her chair. "I hope they know what they're doing."

With a single movement a last key was crushed. A loud buzz steamed from inside the walls. Naomi stood, unintmediated, and stopped when she saw him.

"Where's your mask?" He actually thought she sounded a little concerned. Or maybe afraid that something might interfere with the 'justice' she was getting.

"What did you do?" The gun was behind his back; his fingers were hidden as they tightened around the trigger but he still felt that she knew.

"I don't know what you're doing, Dr. Shephard, but I'm being serious here. If you don't put that mask on in the next thirty second you're going to die."

"I don't have one."

He was satisfied as her eyes turned cold, as though she did- for that moment- actually feel sorry for him. But then he realized that must mean that his moment's worth of confidence meant nothing. She was serious. Whatever they were planning to do, it was real. He had said so himself. Now he was standing here like he was waiting to die. He had no plan and no wish to die.

"Then I'm sorry," Naomi muttered quietly.

She turned swiftly and began to flee from the room, afraid to be with him any longer.

"Wait." His gun clicked as he aimed it at her, convincing himself he was ready to shoot. "Whatever you did, turn it off, it's not worth it." She began walking forward again, never turning to him. "Stop!"

A bullet bounced off the walls in warning as his voice flooded through the vacant air. He swore he felt his throat closing up as his shouting ceased; his eyes were stinging but he told himself he was only imagining things.

But he did feel the whisp of gunfire as a bullet flew past him; he threw himself against the wall just in time. He fired his gun a second time, running after her as she attempted to leave once again. The bullets dove effortless towards him. Breath left him each time one flew past him. He chased her towards the entrance of the building, where her pace quickened at the sight of escape.

Now he was certain the air was thickening. The once paper-thin atmosphere around him was filling up with some invisible substance, and while he was fighting to not choke on his own breath Naomi seemed untouched by it. Not only was the air growing thicker but darker. He allowed a single moment shut his eyes, desperate to clear his vision.

When he opened his eyes a black ring was flying at him, charing through the air at him; glaring at him with fire. He saw it coming before he could escape from the line of fire and he could feel his skin charring away at the burning shards. When he fell backwards he was certain that he had been hit, certain that anticipation helped him mentally cope with the pain; for now.

Then he saw her eyes. They peered at him reluctantly, afraid to see him. He caught his reflection against the plastic shield of her mask but could only see himself sprawled across the ground before the air grew even darker, even thicker, and he swore he felt something leak not from his chest but his nose as she lifted him towards her, burying his head against her shoulders as his eyes closed.

--

He woke up to gray, and once he saw it his mind felt grew too. Reaching up with a hand he touch his nose, remembering that he last felt like his nose was bleeding. Sure enough there was a rough dryness surrounding the center of his face.

Blinking, Jack stared at the ceiling above him. It was too low for his behalf, only seven or so feet from the ground. It looked like it was made of steel.

"Where are we?"

His voice was still hoarse, his throat still felt like it was cracking to pieces.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," there were traces of distant laughter in Kate's voice, but she sounded drained from whatever it was she went through while he was out.

She knelt beside him and helped him sit up; his head rushed with a swarm of pain as his back rest against the wall. He couldn't relax. The room around him was too unfamiliar, but as he surveyed the bare steel walls around them he began to recognize it for what it was.

"Are we in a panic room?" He guessed.

As he spoke his eyes found an open case bolted into the walls. Plastic bags filled with supplies had been thrown to the floor but they were all filled with syringes and inch-tall brown bottles of liquid drugs.

"I think," Kate replied, "how do you feel?"

"Was I shot?"

He wondered why he couldn't feel any pain. He scanned his chest, his arms, his legs, and found no traces of blood. Kate shook her head.

"I saved you just in time," she admitted quietly.

A smiled escaped him; it was probably the most life this place had seen in centuries.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, well that's only for the bullet," Kate's eyes shifted to the floor with a shy smile.

In the next moment she changed her mind, her eyes locking immediately with his. He didn't understand her message and could only watch as she seemed to be soaking in his presence. The trance broke and he found himself drawn into her shoulders as she threw her arms around him, closing her eyes before he could actually see the tears fall. She broke apart quickly, avoiding his eyes as though he were oblivious to her tears.

"What was that for?" He asked.

"You were going to die."

"Kate-"

"No!" She exclaimed, the sobs of fleeing tears breaking her voice. "You were going to die! You were just crashing. I found extra mask in the building and a map leading to 'uncontaminated areas' and if I hadn't..."

"But you did," Jack reassured, "you did good."

"Yeah, surprise," Kate remarked, rolling her eyes as she wiped a tear away, "I'm not an idiot."

He offered her a small smile but she only looked down. He watched her, unable to take his eyes away as she tried so hard to hide from him; and he knew it couldn't just be because something might have happened why he was out.

"How long do you think we'll be safe here?"

Sarcasm breathed through her curiosity, but he could see through to the exhaustion of having to ask the question. She didn't realize it, he thought. There was no one left to run from.

"That depends," he replied, "do you think they're all dead?"

His eyes flashed to hers and she looked taken aback; he hadn't mean to accuse her of anything at all.

"Don't," she whispered.

Eyes closed she bit her lip, but he couldn't as easily block out reality.

"I didn't do anything-"

"Jack-"

"They're dead."

The announcement, like a confirmation, sent her glaring at him until her eyes drew blank. She didn't want to believe him but he wasn't as good at pretending. Her stare was as though she couldn't, didn't want to, believe that he was the one speaking those words. But he couldn't only tell her the truth; he couldn't avoid it and he was failing at hiding that he didn't know how to deal with it.

"It's not your fault."

"I guess you don't believe in fate," he said.

"What makes you say that?"

"That everything happens for a reason," Jack explained, "that maybe I was meant to be on their boat because I was meant to stop them."

He noticed that her cheeks were dry tears; her eyes only spoke disbelief.

"Why would you want to stop them?" Kate inquired. "After all they did to us? Think of what they could have done to others."

"We don't know that they ever did anything to anyone else," Jack pointed out, "but I don't believe in fate."

"Then what's your point?"

She was frustrated with him now. A longing for sleep lingered in the wet corners of her eyes. Dirt and grime bruised her face, sinking into her anger as fuel for her glaring eyes. She was taking it as an insult that he was blaming himself; she was angry at him for it.

"I just don't believe in solving murder with murder," he admitted.

His comment turned her away like a physical blow; first her eyes fell and then she gathered herself up, moving through an invisible fog until she slid to the floor across from him.

"What?" He asked.

She shook his head but he caught her swallowing, fighting away tears. When she hugged herself it was like a final hint that she was done with him. She was silent, her eyes sinking into the untouched ground beneath them. Their lives were an inconvenience to this place, he realized as he looked around. The walls so bare, so clear without reason to be touched. They were never supposed to come here. They weren't wanted here.

"We should get some rest," Kate spoke up quietly.

Her voice cracked just as she closed her eyes. Resting her head against the wall she closed herself off from him permantely; the entire escape act flashed before his eyes. He sighed, watching her closed eyes until his own became sympathetic, falling easily into a familiar scene...

The cabin was dark this time. And Kate was there. When he walked into the room he felt like before, like he had just woken up. She and his father were sitting in rocking chairs, leaning closely to each other as they discussed a hushed conversation.

"What's going on?" He asked uncertainly.

His father glanced up at him, summing up the idea of letting his son join in. Kate watched him as well, as though she were changing her view of him. The two exchanged a glance and his father sighed, the sigh Jack knew to mean his father had no choice but to give in.

"We were just discussing your place here, Jack," his father began, "I don't think you understand just what that is."

"No, I don't," Jack shot. His eyes flashed between the two in disbelief. "My plane crashed on this island! I don't want to be here, I don't even know where 'here' is! Look at what all's happened to me!" His father's mouth fell open and lingered there; he imagined- hoped- that it was difficult of for him to learn of his son being put in these situations.

"I know it's been hard, Jack, but you're here now," his voice fell to sympathy but determination still vibrated thickly against his tone, "and you have to understand that this is bigger than you think it is. You have a place here. You're a part of this island."

"I'm not a part of anything!"

"You're a part of this relationship."

He'd never heard Kate speak so delicately, so concerned. So similar to his father, in a horrifying way. She stood up and took his hand; he knew he was beginning to sweat with embarrassment. The last time his father met a woman he was with it was the wife that left him a short time later. She was another symbol of how weak his son was.

"You don't understand her at all," his father said, unaffected by how close Kate was standing to him. Her eyes wondered to his, searching deeply for a connection he thought they were familiar with. "You don't understand us, Jack, and it's driving this entire thing towards a place you really don't want to be at."

He found himself standing in front of a once cracked window over a kitchen sink, but instead of the island a familiar view of L.A. greeted him, with the jagged sunset casting a shadow over buildings outside his office. There wouldn't be a clear view until he reached the suburbs he lived in; there was too much to concentrate on as he took in the cars in a daze on the street beneath him, the restaurants jammed into street-corners and ordinary people frozen as they passed crosswalks. Unscathed, carefree. Knowing where they were going.

"You want to go back there, don't you?" His father asked softly.

He nodded.

"Yeah."

The canvas was erased before he could savor the sights, the feeling. Dark jungle stood in front of him, blocking him until he forced his way by. All he could see were faint outlines of overgrown trees; the shadow the island cast was too thick to see through.

"This is the way." Jack turned around, his father was leaning back in the rocking chair, facing Kate, the scene set for him to walk in on once again, "we're two of a kind, Jack. Figure out this and you'll be out of here in no time."

Jack stared at him, thinking that the last of his father's statement was too casual to trust. His doubt was heard and the next thing he saw were gray walls. Blinking, he looked around wearily, searching for Kate. She was still asleep, or pretending to be. The silence resting around him teased him, and he had to remind himself that it was all real. The reflection of the city, the mirage of finding himself in that world- even the breath of the overly cleaned office- wasn't real. Closing his eyes he tried to put himself on the street, dressed in formal clothes, another piece that put together the normality around him.

He shivered, remembering instead that his clothes were cold and damp and opened his eyes the moment he realized Kate wasn't in that picture. He found himself staring at him again but she still wouldn't wake up. His eyes traveled instead to the overturned supply container next to year and its dozens of plastic bags with syringes. Stepping quietly he crossed the room and picked one up, noting immediately the Dharma logo with the traditional medical symbol on the front. On the back was a set of directions written boldly in red:

To be taken immediately after examination. Continue use every nine days until told otherwise by The Staff. DO NOT take any other medications during use. DO NOT stop use if it appears that the drug is not working. Go directly to The Staff THE FIRST TIME given symptoms appear.

"Good thing we all know what those symptoms are," Jack muttered to himself.

He threw the syringe back into the pile and began a search for food and water. There were smaller compartments in the crate holding first aide supplies- but no prescription drugs as advised by the warning. He began to wonder if Kate mistaken the place to be a decontamination center. He looked around. Clean, sterile walls sectioned off from the rest of the island. No meds, no immediate outside help.

Something new caught his attention behind him. The wall he had been leaning against, yet to be properly examined, now obviously was sectioned in two by a miniscule crack running down its middle. Even a panel rested on the wall next to it, its red button beckoning him.

A hammering sound rang through the room as the walls began to open like elevator doors, revealing behind it a closet. The television screen caught his eye first: it was a security camera held high in the corner that flipped on at opening to reveal an outside shot of a green-gray jungle. His heart leapt- on the camera next door was a shot of the beach, unharmed. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed hard, only to grow nauseous. The beach looked too empty. He felt like he had interrupted fate, disturbed the plan of people being on that beach that night, and with a very violent reason.

"Are you going to take them?"

He jumped at Kate's voice, following with a disturbed sigh.

"Those?" Jack said, pointing at the plastic bags. "No."

Her hard stare pierced him, ready to recite an insult that he had obviously handed over to her.

"I thought all this was real," she pointed out coldly, "and if it is, then you should take the meds."

"Yeah, well it's different when I'm putting something of theirs into my body."

He had already found his way into one of the chest of gray drawers buried alongside the security cameras. In one lay an assortment of energy bars that he quickly dove towards, only to freeze, remembering the point he just made. He could feel Kate watching him, eyebrows raised.

"You want me to take the meds?" He shot, already storming towards the supply crate. "Fine."

Tearing open a plastic bag he reached for the syringe, flawlessly preparing both his arm and the syringe for the injection even as his heart was pounding. His fingers shook slightly; he was sure she could see, but he stuck the needle into his arm before he could seriously doubt himself.

It hurt more than he imagined. He closed his eyes tightly, muscles tensing until the very last drop of the yellow medicine was gone. The pain lingered even when the needle was fully out and thrown back into the back. He tossed the used syringe beside the pile of new ones and turned away from both them and Kate, trying to act as though it were nothing.

He wondering if feeling like his stomach was just turned upside down was a side-effect or was from the fear of not knowing what he just did to himself.

"That was what Desmond was taking down in the hatch," Kate began quietly, "he took it every nine days for three years and it never effected him."

"Maybe it didn't have a reason to effect him."

He could feel his eyes melting with exhaustion as he glared at her. Turning, he rested against the wall, messaging his arm one last time before dropping his hand, ready to convince both of them that he was okay.

"How many people were on the boat?"

Her voice was still soft as she ran through different topics, trying to find a comfortable subject. Jack thought back to waking up on the freighter, and in his mind flashed memories of being on deck. He'd been surprised by how few passengers there were.

"Hardly more than ten," he replied, "why?"

"I was thinking ten people won't bother burying fifty bodies," she explained, "and I don't see why they would wait around a contaminated island with the bodies of the people that killed their people."

Closing his eyes briefly he thought back to the unceremonious grave-site of the Dharma Initiative. Why would they give the Others the courtesy of a memorial? Kate was right...

"What's your point?" He asked.

Kate grinned; he could only stare at her blankly. It was the first time he'd seen her smile in too many days. The grin was obvious, brewing from some plan of hers that she was certain would work.

"I'm also thinking there's at least two vessels the Others have to leave the island," Kate said, "they were talking about a boat they had to travel between island plus a submarine. Why don't we just walk across the island and take them?"

His insides churned at the thought of stealing a dead man's boat. It would take awhile for the idea of leaving the island to settle in. So many disappointment, so many obstacles left him feeling cut off from the rest of the world. Even if he went back home...how would other people be about to relate to this? His family? His friends?

"What?" Kate demanded, clearly disappointed at his hesitation.

"I just don't know if it's safe," Jack began uncertainly, "it will take a few days for whatever's in the air to dissolve."

"That's why we have these."

She picked up one of the gas mask with a grin. She looked too happy to be holding that mask; Jack was sure he was going to be sick.

"What?" She said again, her voice sinking. She knew he wasn't going to be as keen to go along with this as she was. He couldn't accept things were the way she thought they were: over.

"I just can't believe we're the only ones left on the island." His eyes traveled to the security cameras; a calm, empty jungle was still being displayed. "We should still be running."

"There's nothing to run from," she stepped up to him so that her words were floating soothingly to him. He only felt more indifferent. "I know you don't like what happened, but we have to take this opportunity. At least some good can come out of this."

A dry laugh escaped him. Bowing his head he dug his hands into the moldy pockets of his jeans. He closed his eyes when they landed on the cold, bare floor of the panic room, and he tried to picture himself back home, like he had so many other times that day. He tried to picture himself sitting down to dinner with his mom, without his father. Trying to tell her what he was going through. He tried to picture himself going back to work and having reassure patients and live to give hope. He was the exact opposite of who he was when he boarded that plane, and that person was who they would be expecting.

"How are we going to face them?" He asked quietly. "If we tell them the truth they'll think we're crazy."

"Then maybe 'crazy' can be our story," Kate said with a small smile.

His eyes flashed to her; the realization came over him like a punch to the stomach.

"You say that like you're not going to escape to the closest city the minute we see land."

Her face melted; her eyes drew into a painful glow but it was easy to react truthfully, hurt and offended. She would leave him the moment she got a chance. He should have known it from the beginning.

"This is my chance for a new life," she said quietly, "don't tell me you're going to let them take me away after all we've been through."

Jack shook his head.

"I wouldn't," he agreed, "I'll fight for you."

"No!" She looked so horrified that it stunned him; he couldn't even argue. "You can't make yourself apart of this! You have to go...you can say that you're the only survivor."

"No."

He shook his head frantically, wanting to erase the thought as soon as it came. He couldn't even fathom what it would be like to play that part. He couldn't act so alone, so broken, and accept everyone's sympathy. The only thing that would get him through this would be the relationship they built and the knowledge that someone understood him. He wasn't going to let go of that.

"Jack, please!" She begged. "You don't want to do this."

"Why?" He demanded. "Why wouldn't I fight for the one person who was by my side, the one other person who would keep me from thinking that I was going crazy? If I take you out of the picture I'll lose it...how am I supposed to know what was real and what wasn't? Once we get back it's going to be so different...we're going to be the only two people who ever will know what truly happened."

"And you're one of those people. You can do this."

"No, I can't," his eyes found hers, softening with less anger and begging for her to understand, "not without you."

He leaned forward and trapped her in a kiss, feeling pathetic as he held onto her as though he'd fall apart if he let go. She responded with a brush of sympathy. Perhaps, he could hope, with understanding, as their lips brushed together once more before she pulled away.

Her eyes were hard, set like she engraved herself into stone. He was almost afraid to keep eye contact with her, but she was drawing him to her like she was pulling him into a trance. Once their eyes were locked he knew he wouldn't be able to let go. Her hand lingered near his but they never touched, as though she were afraid to let this moment get too close too quickly.

"I want to tell you what I did, before you find out from the press." She spoke too darkly for his liking, but he was trapped in her trance and couldn't argue. He could only fight to comprehend that he would finally know the truth and probably wouldn't like it. If possible her eyes gazed deeper into his, trying to lock into a section of his soul to grab a hold of him, make sure he would be there. "I killed my father."

Her eyes never wavered.

"He used to be abusive, and he would hurt my mother."

It was the way that she had him locked in her gaze, the way that she never once teared up or faltered her hold on him that scared him. He felt like she was drawing him into her, capturing him in a burden he would never be able to let go of. And for that, for that moment, he hated her. The words she said he couldn't comprehend. He only knew it was true from her stare.

"He would always come home drunk," she went in on; it was his grip he felt tremble against her fingertips and she reinforced her hold, "I don't even know if he ever actually worked. She was a waitress in a diner. That's what she did all her life. Until I killed him. He probably didn't even realize what was going on. I made it look like something went wrong with the electrical wiring. I took out the insurance, gave it to my mom, and ran."

She paused and he was terrified that was the end of her story. He wanted her to keep talking so that he wouldn't have to talk to her. It might have been the most selfish instinct he ever had toward her, but it was also the only moment since meeting her that he truly knew who she was. At the end of the day, nothing would stop the fact that they would step of their boat to a swarm of police ready to take her in. There would be nothing he could do...

He didn't even know what to think. She searched his eyes, hers never moving, trying to pull out that part of him that she was depending on to understand. Slowly, he came out of his daze and felt sick. Sick with guilt and sick from her story. And not even from the murder part. To be so desperate to escape life that you were willing to kill someone to find a way out...he never felt luckier, even if he had his own share of self-pity from his childhood. He also never felt so sorry for someone, so shocked to find the layer beneath the surface he knew so well. She fought for him, fought for them to stay alive. Her best intentions were those of a miracle worker running out of materials to save with. But knowing there would always be that side of her that was capable of taking away another life, of erasing existence, tore him in two.

"When we crashed here, when the Marshall died, it was like I could finally stop running," she continued quietly, barely above a whisper as to not disturb his thoughts, "I couldn't help but to think I was actually getting to start over. I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

The pressure left him like someone stuck a syringe through him and drew out his breath. Her fingertips slid away, and when he made the familiar reaction of reaching for her hand again she shook her head and brushed a hand across her face. She was crying for the first time, and because of him. He couldn't understand her. Her life was a complicated brush of unfortunate, unfair, happenings, and whenever she found the slightest beacon of rescue something drove her further away. He couldn't see how she could have fought like this all through her childhood. He couldn't see how the rest of the world could have watched as she was constantly failed. She turned away to a corner of the grey room and hid there, turning away from him as though he would go right on with the rest of the world and throw her out the moment the truth shone through.

He stepped close to her and he swore he saw her shoulders twitch, but as he silently grew closer she never turned away. His hand landed on her arm, pulling her towards him with an urge of reassurance, his touch softening as his fingertips held on more tightly to her paper-light skin. Her eyes were closed; her mouth opened and closed a few times, but whether it was from a need to cry or to speak he never found out. She hid her face instead against his shoulder, letting him hold her there until he lost track of time, until none of it mattered anymore and there was hope that it never would.

**Author's Notes:** I'm soooo sorry for the wait! A lots happened since the last chapter. I got a job. I graduated high school. Tons of insaneness going on in my life with all that. So I failed to find the time- or more like the energy- to write, and I'm soooo sorry for my laziness. Summer's here, and by definition I'm allowed to sit around and do nothing. But I'll make time for you guys, all of my readers for all of my stories, and of course I'll spend most of my time writing or at least planning what will come next. Thanks to all of you who are still reading. I really appreciate and again, I'm deeply, deeply sorry for the wait. Thanks again!

Until Next Time...

October Sky


	32. Where Are You In Time?

On An Island

Chapter Thirty-Two

**Author's Note:** Is anyone else getting tired of me saying I'm sorry for the wait? I am. But I'm sorry. I truly am. I'm making myself get frustrated. I'm mad at myself. Don't worry, I didn't plan it to happen like this. The timing thing, I mean. But thank you, to all of those who still read. I greatly appreciate it! By the way, you have no idea how much I love writing Daniel. Who knows if he's really even in character- I try- but he is just so fun to write.

**Chapter Thirty-Two: **Where Are You In Time?

They sat quietly, waiting for something to happen. There was no way of knowing when to leave or where to go. They didn't know what was left and they didn't want to. Despite the fragile state they just accepted and the trust that was formed there, Kate now sat across from him, staring into space, like she was afraid of speaking to him. The silence was more than he could handle...his head throbbed, he felt like he had been mentally and physically pushed through a tunnel too small for his size.

To pass time he flipped through the spare papers and manuals buried inside the drawers of the newly found station. Kate still hadn't told him where they were- though she no longer laughed to herself when he asked.

_Blueprints(1781-1917)_

His eye twitched; curiosity peaked and he opened the newest manual. In delicate black ink was a sketch of the island, signed by an artist whose name he could not decipher. The page was wrinkled and yellow, having served its time. He remembered the map they found in Daniel's hut and knew right away that this didn't match it. This one was almost bare, with only trails and a few trees that looked like sticks with arms. No stations were labeled. There were no rivers, no distinctive landmarks-

He lied. There was one. _The Black Rock_. It was a coffin-looking drawing in almost the dead center of the map; the only piece of land worth mentioning. Or discovering. That was when his attention was drawn back to the name. Squinting, he trained his vision as sharply as he could, and he was rewarded by just being able to read-

"Who's that?"

Jack looked up. Kate was standing now, watching the monitor that had so far been useless. Now a familiar face was staring back at them, looking beaten and worn. Daniel waved at them, and his heart leapt. How did he know where they were? After his arms crossed once more, wearily, they collapsed on his knees.

"He's from the freighter, we need to go help him-"

He looked up; all he could see were boards that assumingly led to an exit. He turned to Kate.

"How do we get out of here?" He inquired.

She only stared, her eyes connecting strangely with his, like she didn't trust him.

"Who is he?" She demanded.

"Remember?" Jack said. "He was the one who was with me when you almost took me captive."

Kate looked down, and he immediately regretted the accusation.

"Look," he sighed, "he's not one of the bad guys. He's just a scientist that got wrapped up in something that was over his head."

"And why would a scientist be on a rescue boat?" She challenged.

He felt sorry for her then. He had assumed she understood...

"They're not here to rescue us."

Looking up, he ignored her eyes, and searched for a way out. On the second try he found the silver latch easily. He stood on one of the beds for an easier reach, but instead the ceiling parted before he even touched it. Now he looked at Kate, whose hand was lingering over a red button. She looked as though she didn't trust what she just did. Her eyes snapped to him, warning him.

He didn't have time to answer before footsteps were heard crashing through the hallow darkness, and Daniel's voice called to them:

"You guys need to get out of there, now!"

"Why?" Jack shouted back.

"There's no time, Jack, just trust me!"

"Who are you to ask us to trust you?" Kate demanded.

He sighed and turned to her.

"We should trust him."

"Why?"

"Because he knows more about this than we do!" Jack exclaimed. "And if something happens, I don't think I want to be in the bottom of a pit below an unknown station!"

Guilt traveled through her eyes, but it only cut through the anger in small slices. She stepped forward, leaping onto the bed as well. She glared at him before lifting herself into the narrowing above them.

The space was dark and all that he could make out was that if he shifted one inch to the right or left, he would run into wooden walls. There was some kind of ladder that Kate was following, one that reached high above the grey room left beneath them. He looked down and swallowed nervously at the distance between them and the concrete floor; a flash of memory took him back to jumping out of the helicopter. If he could do that he convinced himself he could concur any height fears.

It was a few minutes before they reached the surface, and Jack was surprised when the opening wasn't directly above them, but beside them. He held onto her back as Kate crawled through, and took one last look below them before doing the same.

Something behind them screeched to a halt immediately when his feet hit the sand. He jumped and looked behind them; he began taking steps back as soon as he saw the mud-colored surface of the building. It was more than a few stories high and circular; the door wasn't even visible to him when he looked for it.

But it was the familiar crashing of water smashing against earth that drew his attention. The sand felt like cotton, the sky was welcoming and innocent. And four carved toes reached above the surface, stretching out like a thrown. One of the toes had been chopped off.

He looked at Kate, who shrugged.

"What is this place?"

"Our hideout," Daniel replied.

He was out of breath. When Jack turned to him he was just lifting his hands off his knees, which were mud-covered and drenched with damp rain. His hair clung to him in wet, greasy strands.

"What happened to you?" Jack asked.

"Seriously?" Daniel shot, then shook his head. "We don't have time. Just...follow me."

He stepped forward willingly, but Kate grabbed his arm. She was glaring at him again. Fighting for the words, she just shook her head.

"He's okay," he reassured, "trust me, I was on their boat. Would I really risk trusting him?"

She stared towards Daniel doubtfully; he kept walking, assuming they were following. They would lose him if they lingered any longer.

"Just, trust me, okay?" He offered. "Trust me, not him."

Kate stared at the ground for a moment and then nodded, following him like a reluctant puppy.

--

He didn't like looking at Kate in a new light since her confession, but he couldn't help it. How was she supposed to tell him she was a murderer and expect him to not react? Her silence brought even more mystery to it: it was like she told him she killed a bird with her car. He remembered her very first confession, the pained, helpless, cry of "It belonged to the man I killed! It belonged to the man I loved..."

But was that all she did? Was that what sent her running across the country, across the world, and sent U.S. Marshals running after her? His eye caught her hand as she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her; he always told himself that she was innocent. That it couldn't have been that bad. He lied to himself, convincing himself that it just wasn't true. She was too much like him. But now...he wasn't so sure.

"Okay."

They looked up at Daniel's breathless announcement. Jack froze.

The cabin smirked, raising its amused eyes as the dark windows gazed ominously at him. He knew it from his dream; he knew it like he had just been here yesterday. And he knew he didn't want to go in. In his dream his father had been in there. In reality, that wasn't possible. He could keep fooling himself as much as he wanted, but the truth would only become more painful.

"Now, what you're going to experience in here is very, very weird," Daniel continued; his attempt at reassurance was less than a failure, "it's even...creepy."

"What is it?" Kate inquired, glancing uncertainly towards the house.

Jack didn't comment.

"I don't know," Daniel admitted. His guilt-ridden eyes were tired of saying those three words, but he and Kate were just as tired of hearing them.

"What do you know?" Kate asked.

Daniel glanced at the cabin; he was terrified.

"It's our ticket out of here," he explained, "and trust me, we need to get out of here soon. There's a plan B."

"What's plan B?"

Only the fear crawling from Daniel's eyes convinced him to ask. He was fooling himself again, thinking that maybe, if Daniel was this terrified, something from his dreams was legit. Dread and exhaustion sank into his demeanor as Daniel looked at him.

"You don't want to know."

Daniel's feet sank into the ground as he completed their path to the cabin. He could practically see the debates in his mind churning. Even Jack, with every step, wanted to tell them to go back. When he reached the crooked doorstep Daniel took one last look around, as though savoring every positive thought he could. A lantern was waiting for them and Daniel lit it, taking one last deep breath before knocking on the door.

There was a moment of silence, and then:

"Here goes nothing."

The hushed whisper led them inside. Immediately all sound was swallowed by the cry of the door scratching against the wooden floorboards. As the light hit the center of the room, familiarity struck him. The rotting sink was there, minus the dirty dishes. The table awaited dinner. But missing was the narrow hallway leading to the room he woke up in.

"Hello?" Jack's heart began to race as Daniel called out to the darkness. He thought he saw the orange glow of Kate's eyes flashing towards him, but he was too drawn into the fear racing through them. Daniel was practically shaking. "Um...Ben told me to come here."

Jack wondered if he was lying; Daniel swallowed frequently and didn't dare to attempt eye contact with whomever he thought he was talking to. To Jack, there was no one there.

The door screeched as it suddenly closed behind him; his eyes jumped to a close. Kate's hand brushed against his fingers.

"And why would Ben do that?"

This time he was certain Kate attempted to grab his hand, but maybe it was because he stepped backwards at the very tone of his father's voice. The dismissive amusement was so familiar, so horrifically familiar, that he was certain he imagined seeing his father in the morgue.

As he lifted himself towards the flame he saw his father for the first time in five months. The first time, alive, in five months. His eyes were flashing; his hair was still thinning, but wasn't quit as stiff as he last saw. He was pale, but not ghostly so.

Most importantly, he was alive.

And looking right at him.

"You brought my son with you?" It was a demand, shot towards Daniel, who flinched.

"I...I guess?"

He glanced towards Jack, hoping that he would vouch for him. But Jack couldn't take his eyes away. He felt Kate's confusion, but everything was so surreal that he couldn't be sure that it was real.

"Let me talk to him."

Jack only glared. And then turned. And ran.

"No!" Daniel tried to grab his hand but he shoved him away.

His rapid breaths hit the worn air with a strangled cry. Tears pounded in his eyes that remained closed as he leaned over, hands rested on his knees.

He was going crazy.

He was finally going crazy.

And he looked up, to prove himself wrong.

The cabin was gone.

A couple of steps back, and he fell. His frantic breaths jumped through rings of fear and echoed back towards him. He was crazy. Images of his father standing on the shore were trapped in his mind...

"Jack?"

His eyes leapt towards Richard Alpert's voice, honestly concerned. He couldn't speak.

"It's okay," Richard said, taking a cautious step towards him, "let me take you to Ben."

"No."

Scrambling to his feet Jack tried to rescue some strength; his eyes darted around the jungle, looking for more of Ben's people.

"I'm alone," Richard promised, "I just need to know what happened. Did you see the cabin?"

He tried to fake confusion, and it must have suited perfectly with the fear still trapped against him.

"What?" He said innocently.

"Then these aren't Kate and Daniel's footprints?"

Richard motioned towards the tracks that scuffed the earth below them. Dread sank through him. The last thing he wanted was to go back with Ben. Unless Ben could give him answers...

He looked back at where the cabin was supposed to be and realized for the first time what truly happened. Not only was the cabin gone but so were Kate and Daniel.

"Come with me," Richard was trying so hard to be calm and welcoming that it was beginning to have the same affect of his demanding orders; it worried him, "don't worry, we just want your help."

When Jack didn't answer Richard glanced towards the sky, obviously growing impatient.

"Quite honestly, Jack, we're in trouble," Richard began, "and unless you help us, and tell us everything you know we could be put in a deathly situation."

Jack looked back at the missing cabins- and missing friends...and the missing ghost of his father. That's what it was. A ghost.

A ghost that all three of them could see...

He made up his mind. He needed answers.

--

"Jack!"

"No!"

She was stopped, just like Jack. Spinning around, her eyes met those of a sweaty, dark-haired man. His bangs were soaked and clung to his face with a disgusting grip. His eyes were harsh and worried; he looked like he had been thrown in the middle of a situation he wasn't ready to control, which made her wonder why Jack trusted him.

"He's just as stubborn as when I left him."

She turned back to Jack's father, mouth agape as she stared with disbelief.

"Forget this," the stranger muttered.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her away, glancing nervously between her and the ghost as he did.

"Is there something I should know?" He whispered.

"Yeah!" She hissed, eyes glowing with horror. "Jack's father died three months ago!"

She knew he didn't believe her, or didn't want to. He froze, as though he had found himself trapped in some hellish fantasy.

"Okay, this just got way creepier than I thought," he paused for a moment, running a hand through his hair, "listen...see the scuff in the wood over in that corner?" She stole a glance towards where his eyes wondered and caught the torn floorboards. Kate nodded. "When I give you the signal, run towards that and follow me."

"What's the signal?"

It was one of the millions of questions sparking confusion in her eyes.

In response he turned, fleeing towards the corner. Within the next moment she found herself chasing after him, following down some trapped door that opened the second her feet left the ground. She didn't realize that she was in front of him until she looked up and caught the light growing dimmer above her-

and the hoard of black smoke seeping through the cracks of the trapdoor. With his free hand he pushed her to the side, where a glowing compartment had been carved into the wall. Towering over her head, it felt like she was being pushed into an elevator.

He screamed and there was darkness.

The next moment was so silent that she was afraid it was over. Her eyelids danced until anxiety hit her, prying them open. The man from the freighter lay across from her, on top of a tan cushion. She sat up. They were on sand. Her senses came back to her, one by one: her head pounded at the effort of moving, whether it was her body or an eye, her elbows ached with a screeching pain, like she had just hit the ground hard, and her knees were locked. Her body felt hollow.

"Hey!" She hissed, breathing heavily. "Hey!"

He jumped, his body spinning into some kind of electroshock; he looked up, eyes darting around the sea before them, and then jumped to his feet.

"Oh my God..."

Kate watched him, but unlike Jack he was impossible to read.

"Oh my God," he repeated, running his hands frantically over his head.

His feet slowly began to follow one another in circles; a smile played on his lips.

"What?" She demanded, getting up. "Hey!"

She grabbed his arm and froze when their eyes met; he looked incredulous, impressed, amazed. Even pride leapt to the surface, like he just wasn't able to hold it all in. A hand raised in the air and waved, pointing behind her.

"I'm...I'm going to write a book about this."

"About what?" She inquired, but he only turned away, marveling at the hell they stood on. She grabbed his arm. "Hey! Who are you?"

Their eye met and then ripped apart; her fingers slipped from his skin at the touch of the red slime oozing from his arm. He raised his hand but if fell limply, as though adrenaline had suddenly died. Wincing, he wrapped left hand around his injured right wrist.

"What just happened?" She demanded, her voice almost at a whisper.

He almost smiled.

"I just saved our lives."

--

It didn't take long for Richard to start asking questions. It was as though agree to follow him meant giving Richard his own personal therapy session. Frankly, he was acting like Ben.

"Have you seen any of the others?"

This one couldn't keep him quiet. Jack looked up, his eyes following Richard as they continued down the trail.

"Who?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly.

They were supposed to all be dead.

"Hey." His voice stopped them both. "What happened?"

Richard turned slowly, shocked to see Jack speaking out.

"Why aren't you dead?" Jack demanded.

Richard laughed.

"Why would we be dead?"

Betrayal. Jack glared at him.

"Isn't that what this whole thing was about? Why you sent me and Kate to that place?"

Richard smirked. He shook his head sadly and met eyes with the sky.

"Always have a plan B," Richard explained, "that's the number one rule of living on this island, Jack. No offense, but do you think that we're going to trust two strangers to save our lives?"

"You held us captive!" Jack exclaimed. "You have files on us..."

"We know nothing more than what the newspapers realized," Richard admitted, glancing back to him, like he actually felt sorry for him, "I'm sorry, Jack, but that's the thing you're going to realized about Ben. He thinks he's more powerful than he really is."

"Is that why you went against his word?" Jack shot. Richard didn't respond, nor look at him, but his sudden silence and the stiffness in his step told all. "Ben didn't want you to send us there. That was your plan B. Are you running out of trust for him?"

Richard turned around slowly, mouth agape, like he was trying to decide if he would rather scream or walk away. A hand lingered in the air, ready to point out accusations.

"Twenty years ago I thought Benjamin Linus was the best thing that happened to this world since...since we started crashing." He smiled, regretfully. "It's taken me twenty years to realize that nothing's changed."

"Then why are you following him?"

Jack stepped towards him. He caught Richard's eye. Often he wondered if Richard felt sorry for them; if that's why he let him and Kate escape, if he was just as trapped as they were. In that moment, he knew.

"I have no choice, Jack," Richard admitted, "it's either follow Ben...or-"

He shrugged and continued walking.

Nothing made sense. Richard was worried about something, but it wasn't death. He had no fear of death. It was all in the look...

"Do you believe in ghost?" Jack inquired.

Richard stopped again. Obviously; the subject must be intriguing to him. An amused smile slipped across Richard's face. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and shifted feet.

"Now why would you be asking me that?" Jack knew he didn't have to tell Richard anything, yet he was still pleading that he wouldn't ask... "Have you seen a ghost on this island, Jack?"

He could barely remember. Selective memory was tricky to master, but he could be a pro at it when he wanted. But now it was fighting back, forcing him to remember, possessing him. He remembered his father's voice and froze; the scene passed before him in a haze...so slowly that he could have convinced himself it wasn't real.

If Richard hadn't already seen the truth.

Jack swallowed, trying to keep himself on track.

"You tell me."

"What are you suggesting?" Richard smirked. "Are you calling me a ghost?"

"That would explain why your name is on the maps. 1781-1917. That's a long time ago. Not to mention, you say Ben practically came to you as an angel 20 years ago. Ben's at least forty. So are you-"

"Actually I'm thirty-nine, but I understand."

"Do you?" Jack challenged. "Then you understand that that's not even possible."

"Me and Ben have been on this island together for a long time-" his eyes rang with fury but his face was growing pale.

"Then you were twenty and deciding what was best for this world?"

"Maybe. But frankly, Jack, this is none of your business."

He kept walking.

"I'm not going to follow you the way Ben did," Jack called, "you're not disappointed in him. You're disappointed in yourself. And you're trying to change that."

Richard laughed, hollow and cold.

"You have no idea of what you're talking about."

Smirking, Jack dug his shoe into the ground and shook his head.

"I'm not following you," Jack announced.

Richard turned around.

"Then I guess you have a death wish," Richard replied, "because only one of us here is afraid to die. And it's not me."

A smile lingered on Richard's face; he was dying to get rid of a secret. He was wanting to tell Jack everything then, but instead he winked, shook his head, and kept walking.

--

"So what's your name?" Kate called.

The man from the freighter was ahead of her, stumbling over his feet as he tried to make his way through the jungle. He hadn't adapted to the island yet, but with every step she had to chase to keep up with him; it was like he was fighting to get away from her.

"Daniel." A stream began to echo over his voice. "Thanks for asking, Kate."

Her heart stopped for a moment and then her feet. They arrived at a stream, a grey-blue river that cut across the terrain with a jagged lisp. Daniel fell to his knees, sinking his injured hand into the water. He tensed and then relaxed, closing his eyes.

"How do you know who I am?"

"For one, your friend Jack is one of the most normal people I've met in the past two months," Daniel said, "and two, your picture has been flashed on the news for the past since the moment your plane disappeared."

He looked up at her and their eyes met. First was sympathy. Then fear- even hatred. Kate looked away. Of course. Who would trust a murderer they've been hearing about for months?

"I guess everyone's afraid I've been hunting their loved ones."

Tears burned in her eyes and she casually wiped her arm over her face to get rid of them. Daniel looked up at her and smiled; his lips were ridden with pain.

"Looks like they've got nothing to worry about."

Daniel looked down, suddenly heartbroken about something.

"Damn," he muttered, "I love this tie."

Sighing, he undid the knot that held the crooked black tie to his neck and wrapped the cloth around his wounded hand.

"Should I bother asking what that thing was?" Daniel inquired. "If I should be worried about getting any infectious diseases?"

The memory of the black cloud chasing them through the jungle struck her, as clearly as though she had found the memory hidden in a box. But she stopped herself from answering.

"Not until you tell me what the hell just happened to us," she snapped, "not to mention Jack!"

Daniel winced as he stood up.

"You see...I'm not exactly sure."

"What do you mean you're not exactly sure?"

"I mean that I've been studying this for years!" Daniel exclaimed; he began to pace furiously. "But this is nothing like my theories!"

"Your theories?"

Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes," Daniel sighed; he met her eyes reluctantly, "my time-travel theories."

She laughed. Her hands fell on her lips and her eyes wondered over his, incredulous.

"Hey, what is it you did for a living again?" Daniel shot. She froze, startled and offended. "That's right. I didn't patronized you so don't patronize me." Glaring, he looked away for a moment, and when he spoke again enthusiasm was completely drained from his voice. "Twelve years ago I worked for a man named Sam O'Keefe. He specialized in the study of time and space, building from a failing career as an astronomer. That's what good scientist do. They spend all their lives working towards a theory that other people think they're crazy for, until they begin to think their crazy themselves."

"So he went crazy?"

"No," Daniel breathed out slowly, "he was recruited. A team called Mittelos Bioscience offered him a job as some part of scientific expedition. They wouldn't tell him where, only that his skills, his 'talents' were highly needed and would be praised. It was the calling he'd been waiting for. Living for. So he left me with a lab full of unfinished experiments and notes to chase after a half-finished theory with some mysterious team members."

"What happened to him?" Kate inquired; she noticed the light in Daniel's face dying, his energy seemed to be sinking.

Daniel shrugged.

"I never heard from him again." He swallowed harshly, letting out a choking sound like he was ready to cry. Daniel wiped a hand over his forehead, bringing back rings of sweat. "Anyway, I stayed at the university- in Scotland- where we had been working to finish his thoughts. And I did."

"So what exactly was his theory?"

Kate crossed her arms and walked over to rest on leg on some tree bark.

A small, proud, smile slipped across his face.

"The essence of time travel," he announced, "the very possibility of it. And I arrived at it. I figured out exactly how it worked. All of it."

"Time travel?" Kate repeated. She still wasn't sold.

Grinning wearily, Daniel began to pace again. He must have spent most of his career doing that, she thought.

"I figured out that it was more of a mental thing," Daniel replied, "when accidently exposed to enough radiation, your mind can take you to another place- another time. And it works. I tried it, many times."

"How many rats did you kill during your testings?" Kate shot.

Daniel through her an unamused glare.

"It was a scientific breakthrough. But I never got anywhere with it. Who cared if rats could go through mazes before they were taught it and then die-"

"Wait, they died?"

Fear started to sink in. It had to be the reason why Daniel was so worried.

"Yes," Daniel admitted, "and non of it made sense. Their constant should have been me...but anyway, I've been driving myself crazy with this for years- quite literally- while trying to teach. I retired a few years ago."

"But you can't be any older than Jack," Kate pointed out.

"Yeah, I know, but Jack doesn't burst out crying while he watches the news..."

When he said Jack was the only normal person he met in the past two months, Kate wondered who he was comparing him to. Maybe normal to Daniel was a far stretch from what everyone else considered sane...and she was beginning to wonder if she should still be trusting him.

"Anyway," Daniel returned, shaking himself away from his daze, "our problem is now, is that we have to find our constant."

"Constant?"

"Something that connects us to where we were before," Daniel explained.

"Wouldn't that be the island?" Kate looked around, feeling a little intimidated. She was being forced to accept something she didn't believe in...and she was only small steps away from pointing that out.

"Well, we weren't exactly on the island when we...traveled."

She hated how uncertain Daniel was when he talked.

"What are you talking about?" Frustration was building up all too quickly. "I'm sorry, but I don't care about finding your...constant. All I know is that we didn't time travel- we're still on the island, and Jack's missing, and I'm not going to explain to him later that we weren't looking for him because we were chasing after some time travel theory he won't believe in."

"Jack's a scientist. He'll believe it when he sees it."

"I don't believe it."

She spun around, heading for the other way. She would find the beach. The statue wasn't exactly hiding, and once she found that she could find the trail to the cabin. That would lead her to Jack. Then they would find their way out of this or better, she would wake up on the beach- or even back in the panic room- and laugh at the craziness of her dream.

"Then what happened, Kate?" She stopped at the use of her name. "Explain to me how we're suddenly out here. Not to mention-" Daniel waved his hand at the sky, "when we left the sun had just risen. Why is it already this hot and this bright?"

"It's an island! And I don't know...this is their doing. They kidnapped us."

Daniel shook his head.

"No, they didn't. Kate, I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to believe."

"I have to find Jack."

She kicked at the ground, running her hands frantically over her head. Tears were stinging at her eyes. It was too much...it couldn't be happening again. She almost wanted to believe Daniel, just so that there would be an explanation. Just so that there would be a solution.

--

People. Plural. That's what he was expecting to find. Another community, waiting to capture him again. Instead Richard led him to Ben, resting- defeated?- on a rock, tracing the mud below with a stick. He stood as they approached, alert as though waiting for them had been like being driven though everlasting solitude.

"Richard," Ben greeted, keeping an unsteady grasp on his relief.

"Ben," Richard returned, nodding.

"Jack."

Ben's eyes widened as he said his name and Jack realized, Ben must have thought he was dead. He looked terrified, even, like he was worried this was the afterlife itself.

"Very well, then," Ben shook his head, but he couldn't completely shake the disbelief from his eyes, "what happened?"

"Why don't you let Jack tell you?" Richard said with a smile.

He threw a terrified glanced at him and swallowed. He couldn't speak...he couldn't tell them. He didn't even understand...

"Let me start for you," Ben snapped, "why are you alive? Why are you here? How did he find you? Are there any others?"

"Do you know of a cabin that's on this island?"

Richard looked horrified and Ben equally so as he froze, eyes swelling; his hands shook. Keeping himself still was becoming hard; he didn't understand why his single statement frightened them.

"Did you find it?" Ben began.

His voice was actually trembling.

Maybe it was the loss of his people. Maybe, except for these two, the Others were dead. Jack almost felt sorry for him...only because the stench of that loss had been following him for too long. It was like he was leaving behind a trail.

Ben stepped up to him, meeting his eye with determination that could scare; Richard was glancing in between the two, waiting for a fight to break out.

"Did you find it?" Ben repeated.

Jack didn't answer. Ben grabbed his arm. Immediately he tried to pull away, but Ben was already leading him back down the trail.

"He's coming with me," Ben announced.

"What about me?"

"Go cook something."

The second time he tried to break away, Jack succeeded. He wanted to run. But instead he met Ben's eyes; the strength of their connection would have shattered the world around them had either looked away.

"What is the cabin?" Jack demanded. Ben didn't answer. "What is it?"

He was yelling now, and breathing hard. His hands curled into fist, and Ben only stood, frozen.

"Did you see Him?" Ben whispered.

His heart was pounding. His chest heaved unsteady breaths; his fist shook.

"Who?" He didn't yell but only fought to keep his voice straight.

Ben smiled.

His fingernails dug into Ben's shoulder's with a fury that shot his eyes closed before he hit the tree; Ben slammed into the bark and his eyes flashed open.

"You don't know what you're dealing with," Ben replied urgently, "you need me."

"Tell me what you're talking about."

Ben smiled again.

"Why don't you show me."

"No!"

He threw Ben aside; the man stumbled, looking disheveled when he straightened. The world was spinning. The limelight beamed down on him with a hot glow, waiting for him to continue.

"I've suffered on this island for too long," Jack went on, "and I want to know everything. Tell me about the cabin. Who's inside?"

"I don't know."

"Tell me!"

"I don't know!" Ben cried. "I haven't been able to find the cabin in a very long time but I promise Jack, it is essential, it is vital, that if you have found it that you show me where it is. There is a very important person in there-"

"No." Jack shook his head, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted. "Shut up."

He didn't want to think it was true. He didn't want to be given this false hope, the idea that his father was back. It wasn't real. It wasn't possible. It was only there to tease him, to torture him, to punish him for some godforsaken reason that he still didn't understand.

"I don't want to see you," Jack began slowly, "I don't want to talk to you. Or I'll kill you."

"You need my help!"

He turned around and began walking. His fist tensed; his mind pounded with the idea of walking right off the island, of it all ending. The whole nightmare could end...he was going to walk until he found himself back in normality.

"You saw him, didn't you?" Jack didn't stop. "I'm sorry, Jack, but there are still forces trying to take over this island, and you're still part of the group they're against. You left them, and they won't think twice for a second before killing you too." As Jack grew further towards and escape Ben began yelling. "They're still out there! They have ways of taking over this island that will cause more destruction that you can ever imagine. If you walk away this is the end, Jack. You've given up. There's no other answer. You can stop looking, you're never going to find what you're looking for."

Jack stopped. He could keep walking and in a few hours wake up to the reality that he was alone, and lost, forever. Those people out there, they still had that freighter. And their helicopter. What was stopping them from taking over, from fighting back? If he kept walking all he would do was lose himself...Ben didn't have to be an alley. He could be a tool. A key. The key to getting off this island...

Jack turned around.

"What's in the cabin?" He asked again, calmly.

Ben was determined, honest, with his answer.

"Everything you've ever wanted to know."

He hated to admit it. But Ben was right. Jack drew in a deep breath and swallowed before agreeing:

"I'll take you there."

--

A burning sensation pulled at her throat, begging for the relief of water. She hadn't found another stream since leaving Daniel, and she kept walking to shake the thought away. She only followed her feet, one step after another. Barely watching where she was going...

She gasped, disgusted, as her feet slammed into mud. Kate looked up. The sun was glaring at her, stinging her with its rays, and looking equally as blinding was a boar, meeting her eye. She had no weapon. No option but to run...and she couldn't even look around to find a way out.

There were three quick gunshots and a spray of blood. Kate winced, looking away, and closed her eyes hard.

"Yes."

Her eyes snapped open. The familiar voice cheered as footsteps edged closer to the dead animal. Her eyes widened as Jack placed his gun behind him and moved to take care of his roadkill.

"Jack?"

Her voice shook, and there were took many reasons why.

He was different. He looked different, he sounded different. His hair was longer, darker, stretching almost past his ears as it set in a greasy pile on his head. He froze when he saw her, and she felt like she might break with fear.

He was so different. A scuff of road-rash hugged his chin; he was paler. Skinner. His clothes were worn, filthy, and torn at the knees. The hems of his jeans around his boots were dying.

"Kate?" He wiped the blood off his hands and stepped forward slowly, cautiously. He obviously thought he was hallucinating.

Then he ran to her, and soon she found herself suffocating in his embrace, in his tears, until she closed her eyes and just accepted it.

"Oh my God..."

He was shaking. He pulled away but still held onto her, his fingernails trembling as they clung to her arms, afraid to let her go.

"Oh my God," he repeated, "what happened? Where...what happened?"

"I-"

"Hold on-" he turned back, shooting a longing glance towards his dinner. He turned to her, hopefully. "Mind giving me a hand with this?"

She followed him down a familiar path, though she didn't recognize it until she reached the caves. God, the caves...she looked around. When had she last been here? It felt like years. Too literally...

The place was a mess, to say the least. Food was being hoarded in one corner, along with a stash of bottled water, as though he were expecting a catastrophe. She looked for the cave she had stayed in. She swallowed, pain tugging at her. It was exactly as she left it.

Her eyes flipped back to Jack, who was storing the boar to prepare for food.

"But...you can't hunt."

Jack laughed.

"I know enough," he said, "and I've had some help."

She frowned.

"Who-"

She noticed there was more here than necessary that Jack needed. She glanced in his cave. A blanket covered one wall, which was obviously hiding guns. Dozens of riffles stuck out like torn leafs and beside that stacks of boxes of bullets. Medical supplies lined another wall; this side was perfectly organized.

Kate took another look at her old cave. Her eyes narrowed; her heart sank. No, it wasn't familiar at all. Jeans and t-shirts, belonging to a man, were thrown about, along with another collections of weapons.

"Jack..." she swallowed, beginning to shake. She began watching him again, drawn even further into how different he was. He even walked different. More confident, almost carefree, though the muscles tensing in his arms could have broken her neck at any odd movement. "What time is it?"

He looked at her, startled.

She couldn't believe she was looking at him. He had transformed...it wasn't him.

"I don't know," he said, sounding as casual as possible, "how dark did the sky look?"

He picked up a bottle over water and brought it to her.

"Here," he offered. She was so thirsty...unusually desperate, more than she had been aware before, for water. Half the bottle was gone in the next moment. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" His eyes were so concerned, concealing within them so much confusion. "What happened?"

She looked at him, terrified.

"What year is it?"

Jack shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, "I haven't been able to keep track. The last time I knew what it was, it was January of '05."

Fear pounded within her, swimming through her with a sickening motion. Her eyes were spinning.

Her nose stung...

A hand flew to her head and she felt nauseated, she felt horrible. She felt stupid.

"Oh God..."

A haze took over her, swarming her vision, and she collapsed.

Author's Note: This next chapter is going to be so much fun to write. I want to write it now. Which is good. I need my writing energy back! I hope you're a fan of sci-fi. If not, it's only for a chapter or two. Thanks again to all of those who are still reading!!

Until next time...

October Sky


	33. Three Years

On An Island

Chapter Thirty-Three

**Chapter Thirty-Three:** Three Years

There was shouting, distant, fading, like she was moving through a dense tunnel. They grew closer and then fluttered away, almost like they were afraid of her. She failed to open her eyes and had to try a second time.

At first she didn't know what to think when a blurry image of the caves appeared. And Jack, and Desmond. But they shouldn't be there. But they were running...they were stuck in the cabin. With Daniel. And Jack left...

"That's not what happened to her!"

Jack was angry; his voice sounded stronger than ever. Her blurred vision dissolved and she could see Jack and Desmond now, shouting at the end of the caves. It was one of the back ones; Jack's. She shifted from where she lay and realized she was on something soft...a bed of pillows or cushions. Seats from the plane, she remembered.

"I'm sorry but I know these symptoms!" Desmond replied. "It's the exact same!"

"No."

At that moment his eyes flashed towards hers and they met. He raced over to her, sitting in a seat beside the cot.

"How do you feel?" He asked, searching her face, concerned.

"Okay."

She swallowed, hoping to not sound so weak the next time. She glanced to Desmond. His arms were crossed, frustrated as he glared at her and Jack.

"What does he think happened to me?" She asked.

"Nothing," Jack said, shaking his head. He reached for a bottle of water. "It doesn't matter, here, drink this."

"Jack-"

"How did you feel before you fainted?"

His eyes flashed in annoyance. Startled, she hesitated before realizing her answer.

"Just...like something washed over me," she said, "I just fainted."

Jack nodded and turned to Desmond. He was more serious, colder, than she'd seen him in a long time.

"She just fainted," Jack confirmed.

Desmond shook his head. Hands in his pockets he turned away, pausing before he left. His hair was much longer too, Kate realized, reaching passed his shoulders with bangs that hung almost passed his eyes when he tilted his head.

"Look, it doesn't matter what's wrong with her," Desmond added, "what matters is that we've got to go out there tonight, and I'm not going if- if that's going to happen."

"If what's going to happen?"

She looked at Jack but he was useless. He was ignoring her, and she was afraid that he was ignoring whatever Desmond was telling him- and probably because it was something he didn't want to hear. But Desmond looked so afraid, so terrified of whatever he thought was happening to her that she had to know.

"Nothing."

"Good," Desmond snapped, "then are we going?"

Jack sighed and looked down. She didn't trust him; she could read the lie on him. She watched as he debated with himself; he looked tempted to just get up and walk away. But he looked at her, and when their eyes met there was absolutely no change.

"Can I talk to her alone?" He asked.

Desmond nodded and left. Jack stared at her, trying to see through her, but she didn't know what he was searching for. The past, an answer...he was disappointed, afraid, heartbroken. At last she had to speak up.

"Where do you have to go?"

This seemed to be an easy question for him.

"There's still a food drop, everything three weeks," Jack explained, "we go out, bring it back, keep what we can use. We have to do it tonight, or else the animals will get it."

"There's still a food drop? But..aren't they-"

Jack shrugged.

"I guess nobody knows."

The light in his face shifted and he glowed with a dim, deep guilt. He swallowed, trying to push it aside, but she had already discovered there was more he wasn't tell her. She didn't know anything, she realized, anything about what happened to him or the Others. She looked down, deciding to offer to change the subject.

"So why does Desmond think I'm not fit to go?"

"Look..." Jack hesitated, "were you telling the truth? How do you feel?"

"I feel fine."

Honestly. There wasn't even the slightest pain in her head. Something came over her and swept away. She offered a smile which he tried to return. He leaned back in his seat, still attempting to relax.

"I was afraid I was going to lose you," he admitted, "you come back, after all these years, and then this...what happened to you?"

She didn't want to lie to him. Defeat washed over him at that moment; he looked helpless, like the truth was finally sinking in after fighting it off for so long. She looked down, unable to look him in the eye.

"I've just been looking for you."

He tried to smile but failed. He lowered his head and his hair fell over his face; she just sat, staring at him awkwardly. She didn't know him. She didn't belong in this life...she was supposed to be missing. Maybe even dead. She couldn't tell him what really happened to her- she didn't want to find out what really happened to her.

"What about you?" She asked.

"The same."

A smile crossed his face this time, small, hopeful, and she wondered if he was even believing what he was seeing. And still she had so many questions, but she didn't want to scare him off with interrogations. She wanted to take it slow so that everything wouldn't unravel at once.

Suddenly confusion flashed in his eyes. He lifted his head up slightly, his hands falling to his lap as he paused, as though not wanting to believe his realization...

"Why didn't you ever come back?"

He didn't look at her. Fear plagued her; she didn't want to tell him the truth. She looked around, her eyes scanning the caves, the supplies tucked away, the walls hiding them. She wanted this to be real.

"I just...I was lost. It's the jungle. Everything looks the same."

"For three years?"

He was hurt. He really thought that she betrayed him that, for some reason, she hadn't wanted to come back.

"Yeah," she said, startled, "I was alone, Jack."

He jumped when she said her name, and suddenly he seemed very nervous. He stood and began pacing, circling the cave as questions began to soar out of him.

"But where have you been?" He began, running a hand over his head. "How have you been?" He stopped, looking at her slowly. "Have you seen any of them?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't even thought about the Others. Were they all dead? She looked at him- he looked desperate to know. Maybe he was just wanting to finally be able to live without fear. But he looked more guilty than anything.

She shook her head.

"No," she said, "I haven't seen any of them."

"Daniel?"

"Who?"

"The scientist from the freighter, the one who was with us when...the last time I saw you."

The freighter, what happened to it? But Daniel...she probably gave herself away looking as guilty as Jack did. She just left him out there. He didn't know this island.

But he did, she realized. He knew exactly where to find them at the bunker. He knew exactly where the cabin was. He knew what to do in there. Maybe he knew the island better than any of them- maybe he was even getting in touch with his people right now. She shouldn't have left him. They could have found Jack, found help...and she'd run away from him.

"No," she said, quietly.

Jack's face fell, he looked sick. She felt sick. He turned away from her, running his hands over his face. Suddenly he looked exhausted, worn out from years of worrying.

"At least...at least you're back."

She looked up at his words. He as staring at her, a smile struggling on his face.

"I missed you," he said.

A sad smile fell from her as well.

"I missed you too."

A moment passed, and she thought something was going to happen, but Jack just stood there. It was like he was starting to accept it, but he didn't want to give up the defense he'd worked so hard for.

"I'm sorry to interrupt the moment, but if you're going to get out there by nightfall, you've got to go."

Kate looked up at Desmond's voice. Everything that happened between her and Jack in that moment washed away.

"Yeah," Jack said, already starting to gather supplies, "we'll go right now."

"Where exactly are we going?" She asked, watching him.

He was gathering food, water- more than enough for a short journey through the jungle and back.

"I'll explain on the way." He stopped and looked at her. "Are you sure you feel like going?"

She smiled.

"I've been walking through the jungle for three years," she said, "what's one more trip?"

He smiled too; he even looked a little apologetic.

"Okay then," he said, "let's go."

--

He knew the jungle a lot better now. He walked the path with ease, like he could have done it with his eyes closed. Kate looked up and was surprised to see that the sun was beginning to fall. Ever so delicately its rays fell to rest behind the jungle leaves and the sky grew darker with every step.

"Why are we going out here at night?"

"If we wait the animals will get to it," Jack explained.

He glanced up to the sky to see if everything was on schedule. As they continued walking Kate noticed the ground beneath them growing thinner, paler. They weren't walking into the heart of the jungle. They weren't anywhere near where the hatch used to be. She remembered the path distinctly, and she wasn't sure what it meant that Jack didn't. Ignoring the inaccurate scenery he walked on. Maybe he didn't know where he was going...

Reaching out, she grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Where are we going?"

Their eyes met and then he looked away; a shy smiled crept onto his face.

"You'll see."

He began walking.

"Jack!"

"It doesn't matter," he said, "we're here."

The jungle was thinning; an airy clearing was ahead. Everything smelled like salt. The ground was shedding into grains of sand beneath them, and before Kate knew it she was sinking into the depths of pure, white sand.

The beach was bare. It struck her like she'd realized a great loss she had suffered. Shadowed by a purple-blue sky the beach rest calmly on the shore of a content ocean. The waves leapt to shore, one after another, a never ending pattern she had almost forgotten.

She and Daniel woke up on the beach, but it had been so long since she had actually been there. Jack seemed to be under the same spell. His eyes fell heavily on the shores realizing, she assumed, how long it'd been since they were there together. He let out a sigh, deep and restless; like he didn't know if he was up for this.

Jack began to walk away, to their left, and Kate blinked. The beach wasn't bare. How could she not have seen it? A makeshift tripod sat in the middle of the beach with a cradle resting on top. Night bent down towards them, steadily shaping the sky into colors of dark blue.

"What is it?" Kate asked.

Her eyes followed Jack as he began gathering wood for a fire. Silently he built the campfire and let a soft flame began to burn. Without explanation he turned back to the jungle. She stared into the flames, its enchanting glow grabbing her attention. For so long they had been running. Building fires, surviving in the wild; it was slowly coming back to her. But horrifically she realized they'd spent more time escaping and running than they had settling down and learning to survive on their own. Jack seemed to have it all planned out now. It was routine. Coming out here, gathering supplies, figuring out how they were going to eat, stay safe. He knew how to do it all now.

He came back with a large branch, which he scooped into the fire. The wood caught on with a ferocious glow, hissing and crackling as he reached over and brushed it against the cradle on the tripod.

"What is it?" Kate said again.

"Some kind of signal," Jack said as he brought the torch back down and let it burn out, "we think it was for communications." He looked at her. "Nobody's answering it now."

"Then why are you lighting it?"

Jack shrugged and threw himself onto the ground. Now that both fires were burning heat swarmed between them, lighting up the evening with a humid glow. Smoke danced before them, burning her eyes, making her feel like she was about to cry.

"We haven't given up." She sat down across from him and met his eyes: intimidating, judgmental, almost. They flickered away, his gaze landing to the ocean, to his world that lay somewhere beyond. "When I think back to being at home and going to work and my friends and family...it all seems so surreal. Sometimes I wonder if it was never even real. After I lost you, I began to wonder the same thing about us. Being on this island, it just takes you away. It makes everything seem so...present. It sucks you in. It takes over you. But I try not to let it. I still keep remembering, still keep hoping that we'll get out of here. It's gotten so hard..."

He looked down, his eyes guilt ridden. He couldn't help but to grow accustomed to living on the island, and by doing that he felt like he was giving up on his life. Swallowing, Jack changed the subject, but his words still trapped the guilt in his throat.

"So where have you been staying?"

She thought quickly.

"Their bunkers," she said. Curiosity flickered in his eyes, along with a hint of familiarity, but it was almost as though she were speaking another language. He didn't look like he understood. "The hatches, I just hid out in there. Good shelter. Sometimes there was food, weapons."

"Funny we never saw you."

Cold, dry humor spat from him, and again she got the feeling that he didn't believe her story. She felt guilty for it, but she didn't want to tell him. For some reason, she couldn't tell him. She managed to smile.

"I travel fast." She paused, and then added: "I also stayed in the barracks. I thought you might come back."

She had been wondering about this. Their houses, their shelters, their supplies, their comfort, was right there waiting for someone to take over. Yet Jack chose to hide in the jungle, fighting to survive the wilderness. His eyes leapt to the ground, an uncomfortable reaction settling in on his face.

"I couldn't stay there," he admitted, "where they lived...Desmond won't even talk about it. I don't want to be there. I don't want to see what happened to them."

She felt like he punched her in the stomach. For her to be so at ease with the idea of living in their homes just drew another line between them, reminding her of just how far apart they really were. She wanted to convince herself that she wouldn't have really been able to do it- she wouldn' have been able to use the resources of the dead, to live amongst their memories and her memories of them...but she knew it was useless. She could have. And she would have. She would have thought it was the smartest, safest plan. She may have gone back to the fuselage site...but she wouldn't have stayed their long if Jack wasn't with her. She should have known that he would have thought the opposite: that he would have gone back to the fuselage camp hoping she would return there. Maybe that explained why they had been apart for so long. They were looking for each other in the wrong places. Her logic was so stupid, so useless.

She forced a smile and followed his lead with another change in subject.

"So I guess you and Desmond are friends now."

Jack laughed dryly and relaxed a little.

"Not really," he said, "we don't really...talk."

"So you're just kinda stuck with each other?"

"Yeah."

They paused; it was like the force of saying more than a few lines in a conversation was too much for them. It took too much effort for them to talk...it always had. They were still strangers. They only met a few months ago- a few years ago. Jack had been looking for her longer than he knew her. He knew the basic facts. She had only just begun to open up to him and there was probably still so much more he was curious about.

"Have you told him anything about me?" Kate spoke up as the thought came to her.

Jack looked up. Maybe he thought she was dead...maybe he needed to confess to, everything he knew about her. Including the fact that despite the friend he thought she was she was still wanted, she was still a murderer. Had he even been able to deal with that?

"No," he shook his head.

Relief sank through her, but she didn't show it.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up. He'd barely given her a minute; it was like he had to get the confession out then or he never would. He looked surprised himself, and everything that left him following was fast, urgent.

"I'm sorry I left," he explained, "I'm sorry I ran out it's just...I just...I couldn't."

"I understand."

"No. That mistake, that moment, it changed everything. And I look back on it and I try to tell myself it wasn't really. The past few years it's felt like I've been walking through a dream. You haven't been here and...it doesn't feel real. Sometimes I wonder if I imagined you." He laughed at himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "I wonder if I imagine all that..." His head dropped towards the sand and he swallowed, speaking much more quietly when he continued. "I haven't seen him since."

"Have you seen him before?" She asked.

"Once," he admitted, looking at her. There was a sense of hope in his eyes that she didn't like; it seemed like he'd been pushing himself for years to believe something that wasn't true. It was unhealthy; it was heartbreaking... "When we first crashed, that day I disappeared and you found me. I saw him. It was him and then, in the cabin it was just...I mean, this can't be real. None of this." He ran his hands over his face. "I tell myself that everyday."

"You tell yourself that you're crazy?" Kate pointed out with an air of sarcasm.

Jack laughed.

"Yeah. I don't want it to be real, what we saw. I tell myself it's not possible. That scene...it runs through my head everyday. But at the same time, I hope...I want it to be true. I still haven't found his body. How is that even possible?"

"You can't do this to yourself."

"I know," he confessed, "but I think, maybe they had something to do with it. It just doesn't make any sense. And that's how I've been thinking, up until now, when you came back, that this can't be true. And now you're here. Right in front of me. It's like...seeing ghost. How am I supposed to know that this isn't like then?"

"It's not."

Fear pounded through her; he couldn't figure it out. It would ruin everything, probably break a million laws in the universe. She wasn't supposed to be here. That's what kept scaring her.

"Yeah, but..."

He stood up. Raising a hand hesitatevely in the air he ran his fingers through his hair. Letting out a breath of frustration he stared into the sea, and it was like he was looking at a painting of another world. Everything out there wasn't possible. That was his logic, she knew, she could see it, deep inside him. He didn't really think anyone was going to answer his distress call. He could hope, but he was only waiting for her. Maybe he had always been this way.

She got to her feet, following him slowly.

"I can't explain it," he went on, "there are no answers. Now that they're gone, we'll never know. I mean, why did they do any of this. What is this place?" He turned and looked to her, his eyes burning with determination. "Who were the Dharma Initiative? I mean, at first it seemed like it was all a game, but when the freighter came, they were afraid. They were terrified, and he had no idea what to do. Ben, he was stuck running away just like us."

"What happened to him?"

The question jumped from her before she could help it. Jack's eyes immediately died; he looked down, his hands hidden in his pockets.

"He died."

Throat suddenly dry Jack swallowed and looked back towards the sea. She could read his warning signs easily and knew not to interrogate him. She could just imagine him and Desmond keeping perfectly silent; he hadn't been able to speak about this to anyone for years. Guilt took over her; she wished she hadn't asked.

"You're back now," he said quietly, and turned around. His eyes were wet from fighting off tears. "It's just hard to think that it's all over. After all that it's just...over. We're together again."

A smile broke through, hilighting the tears that had escaped, and he stepped towards her. His arm resting on her shoulder, he pulled her closer, catching her lips with his. She suddenly felt cold, even as his arm wrapped around her, pulling her almost against him. A shiver erupted inside her and he pulled away, a smile forming.

"It's over," he said again.

"Yeah," she replied, looking away from him, her voice barely a whisper, "it's over."

--

The rest of the night was spent with her listening to Jack. He told stories of the past three years, stealing laughs from her, and threw in some dramatic ones from time to time. As the sky drew darker and the moon settled above them, eclisping the last watercolors of the sunset, that was when his stories grew darker, ridden with guilt. She hardly ever replied, never offered her own stories, and spent the night with her mind years away. She didn't want to tell him the truth. She couldn't hurt him, she couldn't let him know that she wasn't really supposed to be here...if not for the accident of whatever happened to her and Daniel, she wouldn't be here.

Even more, she found that she was letting herself get lost in the comforting drone of his voice, sinking herself into his stories and relaxing with a smile at his laughs. It was nice, hearing him talk with such ease. It made it felt like it was all really over, even to her it was only hours away. It was why she didn't want to tell him. She felt safe here, with him.

It was what she remembered first when the fierce pain hit her and her eyes snapped open. She gasped, ragged breaths leaving her desperately as her eyes darted around, searching for him. He wasn't near her. She wasn't even at the beach. Her eyes widened in horror...

The jungle surrounded her, towering over her with a cloak of shadows and a bright, orange glow. It was morning. The eyes of trees studied her from above and she shivered. She was cold. She remembered kissing him and feeling cold...now she was freezing. Her arms shivered, but when she looked down her skin was a pale blue, cluttered with scrapes and bruises.

She almost threw up when she saw her stomach. It looked like someone ripped it open. Her shirt was torn by a clawed hand, revealing a bloody wound that stung with a frightening burn when she spotted it. Her head was spinning. She was going to be sick...

Slowly she became aware of more and more. She was lying on a rock, its sharp edges cutting into her back. She tried to move but was restrained by a block of pain, like bricks were sitting on her. Turning her head she looked up to the sun, blinking at it. Where was he? She felt helpless...and who knew was she was. She opened her mouth to call his name but an ampliphied howling cut her off.

The monster.

Panic quickened her breathing which pulled at her chest, hugging her tightly against the rock she was stranded on. She had to run. A second howl ripped through her; she could practically feel its breath rushing against her neck. Something kicked the energy inside her. Tumbling to the ground she looked around, searching for its dark shadows spying on her in the trees. There was nothing. She broke into a run, her breaths screaming louder than the pounding of her footsteps, racing for safety. She had no idea where she was.

"Jack!"

She lost her balance with the yell and caught herself just in time. Oddly, she felt no pain. Just a rush of coldness, of determination. She called his name again, her voice a shrill against the seemingly calm jungle day. Her shouts began to chase one another, his name bouncing off the face of trees that just stared as she flew by.

Suddenly Jack appeared, standing in the middle of the path. He looked like a statue, like a hallucination, breathing so harshly that she could hear him; his eyes dawned on her like that of something...not even human. Terriffied, traumatized. A cut was bleeding over his eyebrow, he was covered in mud but otherwisde okay...

"Come with me."

He finally broke from his trance. She didn't question him as he grabbed a hold of her hand and pulled her threw the jungle, their footsteps racing to keep up with one another. His palm was sweaty but his grip was hard, and the rush of panic kept her going, running with him until he pulled her aside. They were in some kind of animal shelter; a small house of bamboo, stacked around them in a circle. It was dark. He pulled her furthest from the crack that formed an entrance; all she could see was stripes of sun against darkened trees. He held onto her, arms wrapped around her, and she didn't let go. His breaths echoed in her ear with panic, hers crumbled beneath them.

There was a mechincal sound; the rustling of a computer gathering memory, speed. It was trakking them. Shuddering in the mechinacal rythm it paced around their hiding space; she could see its shadow, floating a few feet above the ground.

The hut rocked with a punch, jerking them backward and then forward. Jack's arms gripped her hard, pulling her stomach. She gasped in pain but didn't push him away. Her hands wrapped around his arms like a child clinging to a teddy bear. There was another push and then a loud cry from the monster. She closed her eyes; she swore she could feel a sworm of cold wind pushing against her. Suddenly another push jerked them and she found herself crashing face-forward into the ground, Jack landing on top of her with a sharp crack. She cried out in pain; her stomach twisted, the wound breathing fiercly. Kate closed her eyes, burrying her head into the jungle floor. She felt Jack's forehead resting against her neck. The monster cried again, but this time it was different. Louder, shaking, frustrated...

There was a fluttering as the mechanical sound rushed away, crying with the shrill of a bird. She waited until the sound echoed back to them and then eventually faded away, like thunder...Jack's weight lifted from her and she gasped. Eyes closed with pain she held onto her stomach as she rolled onto her back, slowly, wincing at every move.

"What happened?" She gasped.

She felt his hand try to pry her fingers away and she let him. She forced her eyes opened. He was studying the wound, obvious fear taking over him. He couldn't hide from her.

"I woke up and it was attacking you," Jack explained. From the darkness he pulled out his backpack. "I tried to stop it but there was no way...it pushed me back. It was like a shark was hitting me. It was pulling you. I wanted to stop it but I couldn't. I just waited. I knew to bring you here...it can't see well in the darkness."

"Is that why it went away?"

Jack nodded. Kate looked around as he pulled out a washcloth. Most of the bamboo had fallen around them, leaving them half covered with shadows, half covered in sunlight. If it came back, they couldn't hide.

"How many times have you two crossed paths?" Kate asked.

She hissed as Jack pressed down hard against the wound.

"Sorry," he offered, and then added, "a couple of times. If the Others were containing it, it's wild now. There's no one to control it. No one to turn it off."

"That's assuming it can be turned off-"

She gasped, closing her eyes. She let her head rest against the ground, defeated. She remained there silently, thinking. Why her? Jack said it specifically tried to attatck her. It only hurt him when he tried to be defensive, and the monster should have recognized him. It had a mind of its own. It was able to follow her, track her down, select her. And why did it leave her the first time? Had it gone back, looking for Jack? Or maybe its friend. Maybe there were two of them. Or more...

"Do you know where we are?"

She was breathing heavily with pain but was able to keep from sounding too weak; Jack never took his eyes off the wound as he tended to it effortlessly.

"Not too far from the beach," he answered, "I can find our way back."

"That's the first time I've heard that."

Jack laughed, shaking off the insult. She smiled, hoping it would make the situation less dire.

"How bad does it look?"

Raising her head slightly, she saw that most of the blood was already gone. Left were long scratches carved into her skin, surrounded by bruises.

"You'll live," he said.

He paused, wiping his forehead with his arm. A trouble look crossed him. She didn't ask, but it was like he was realizing something. Something horrible, not about the wound...he almost looked sick.

"What's wrong?" She asked quietly.

He shook his head.

"Nothing."

His eyes scanned their shelter, which now lacked half its walls. The air was filled with a forboding stiffness, coated with a silence that sent shivers down her back. She had the sudden urge to run- not because she was feeling trapped, like her past was catching up with her, but because of genuine fear. It felt like something was going to happen. Something that would shake their world...and Jack looked like he hadn't been in this kind of danger in years. He looked caught; he looked like he realized exactly this, that things would start happening again.

"Do you feel like you can walk?"

She didn't. Her chest and stomach were numb and when she looked at the wound she felt sick. Small tremors shook her and her head pounded in return. As nice as safety sounded, and as much as she wanted to be in familiar territory, the thought of moving terrified her. But not as much as the thought of coming face to face with the monster again.

Her sweaty bangs slapped against her forehead as she nodded. Raising her arms she balanced herself on her elbows, preparing herself for the worst as Jack reached to help her stand,

--

By the time they reached the caves they were both drenched with sweat and breathing heavily. Relief overcame her when she saw the waterfall glowing in the corner, and Jack heaved a sigh of the same gratitude.

"This wasn't a symptom."

Desmond rushed over from where he had been sitting, waiting for them. He threw an arm around her, easing some of her weight off Jack as they both led her to the makeshift cot in his cave.

"What happened?" Desmond asked.

"She was attacked."

"By who?"

"By what."

She caught how their eyes met as Jack corrected him: terrified, and worse, like they knew something horrible that she didn't. Carefully she felt herself lower towards the ground as they eased her onto the cot. Flat on her back she felt restrained, like she was trapped in a cage again. Staring at the ceiling, she wondered how much longer this was going to go on. She understood Jack's dread back in the jungle: would it go on forever, them getting into these situations? Or maybe it was just her...maybe she was cursed. After all, Jack had lived three years in the jungle and had nothing but old scars to show for it.

"What can I do?"

Desmond's voice seem to float to her from miles away as she stared at the ceiling, drawn towards the dome collapsing over her.

"How do you feel?" Jack asked her, ignoring him.

His face appeared in her realm of vision, misty like a mirage.

"Okay."

"I just knew something was wrong," Desmond went on, "when you came back late..."

"Did the food drop come?" Jack inquired.

He was studying her; she tried to avoid him but his eyes kept drawing her back in. What was he looking for? What did he expect to happen.

"Yeah."

But he didn't sound excited about it.

Rescue, she realized. Rescue didn't come. That meant three more weeks of struggling to survive, of being away from their lives, and three more weeks of rebuilding hope. Meanwhile she would become like them: waiting, trapped, no where to run to...she had only been on the island for three months. The thought of being there for three years...honestly it terrified her. She wasn't as strong as them, not on that level. She didn't know how long she could pull off this relationship with Jack.

She realized his face had disappeared so she turned her attention to the center of the cave, where an awkward silence was settling in. Jack and Desmond were staring at the floor, as though ignoring a subject they both knew should be brought up. She didn't like it. They were hiding something, and both fear and fury fumed inside her. It couldn't have been as easy as hiding in a cave for three years.

"So what exactly happened?"

Desmond was calmer now, lost in his own theories.

"I just woke up and it was attacking her," Jack sounded exhausted, "it was...strange."

Running his hands over his face he leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms and glued his eyes to the floor. The same contemplative, determined look Desmond was set on was fixed on his face as well. She was out of place, and it felt awkward to have to wait for an explanation. Quite honestly she was used to it being her and Jack. She wasn't used to their being secrets. At least, not ones that she was aware he was keeping.

Suddenly Jack pushed himself off the wall.

"She should probably rest." He turned to her. "How's the pain?"

She smiled wearily.

"Like a cloud of smoke sliced up my stomach."

Her stomach was on fire and a sharp, icy rip had torn right through it. Her legs were still numb, her head still spun every now and then. Sleep sounded like a relieving escape but she felt indifferent about being in silence. It almost seemed like Jack was trying to make an excuse to get her out of the picture for awhile. But he was already out his familiar stash of medicine, selecting from a carefully organized pile of pill bottles.

"Here," he said, offering her two pills, "take these."

Throwing her head back she swallowed two pills with the water he offered. A cool sensation smoothed the sore feeling she hadn't noticed had developed in her throat. Immediately she actually felt completely better. At peace.

"That should help you sleep."

She looked up at Jack's words, startled. He was smiling.

"Ja-"

But the world was already fading around her, fading until finally his smile melted into the darkness of sleep.

--

"It's not that! It's the drugs, something's wrong!"

"You wouldn't have just messed up!"

"Yeah, well I did!"

The shouting was loud, louder than it should have been. Surreal. That's how Kate felt as she awoke to the caves, blinking heavily. Her eyes burned, and she thought there was a bright light blocking her vision.

"Kate?"

Jack's voice. Worried. Afraid. Her arm felt like lead as she held up her hand, blocking the strain being put on her eyes.

"Is this normal?"

But her voice was rough and raspy, unlike she remembered. The lingering soothing of the cool liquid was still on her tastebuds, this wasn't right.

"Kate, I need you to tell me right now, how do you feel? Be honest."

He was scaring her. But she wasn't going to let him know that.

"My chest feels tight," she admitted, and gasped sharply at the effort of talking, "and it's hard to breathe..."

She gasped a few more times; her throat felt tense. Her head burned...and Jack didn't look any less worried than before. He stared at her, almost like he felt sorry for her. Helplessness sank in and dread, like he didn't want to admit to something.

"You don't know what's wrong with me," she realized.

Jack's face shifted as he tried to appear innocent and hopeful, and he shook his head.

"No."

"It's true," Desmond said, stepping beside him, "you know what's wrong with her. It's exactly like I told you before. Exactly."

"Not exactly."

"Yeah, well which part's not exact?" Desmond shouted. "Suddenly appearing for the first time in three years or the sudden blackouts?"

"What are you talking about?" Kate looked between them both. Jack looked miserable, Desmond was furious.

"Just be quiet." Jack snapped.

Desmond glared at him, incredulous.

"You're the most unwilling person to accept a little faith that I've ever met."

"It's not about faith!" Jack's eyes grew wide, his anger bouncing back to them in echoes; it was a personal matter now, and Kate didn't understand. She had never really noticed...

"No, it's about her life!"

"Please tell me what's going on!" Kate exclaimed painfully, her voice croaking at the effort.

"No."

"I'm telling you-"

"Just shut up!" Jack spun around, eyeing Desmond with a fury that confused her. Why was he acting this way? What was it that was so bad he didn't want to believe it?

"Jack-"

"Just get out of here!" Jack screamed, cutting Desmond off.

Desmond looked insulted, hurt even. He watched Jack for another moment, just as confused as he was.

"Whatever," he snapped, turning away, "good luck with this."

He waved a hand towards her, dismissing the case, and stormed out. Jack looked down at the ground, cowering with hints of embarrassment. A hand swiped through his hair and he sighed. Now that Desmond was gone he looked like he was trapped.

"You believe him, don't you?" Kate asked quietly.

Jack shook his head.

"No."

"Then what's wrong with me?"

He sighed again, turning away. Desperation melted over him, and even though she knew he was trying to hide it, helplessness radiated off him.

"Just don't worry," he said, heading back over to his stash of medicine, "something just went wrong."

He knelt down, examining the stacks of pills from which the prescription he gave her was from. Silently he studied them, though it was obvious he knew he wouldn't get anywhere.

While he was looking away the world faded away again. Quickly, quietly, before either of them saw it coming.

--

_She was running, fleeing for her life. Hopping over fallen trees, sprinting through the darkness of the jungle she had gotten to know so well. She knew where to go but she wasn't sure if her feet would take her there. Fear pounded through her. It had been so close, so close...right above her. Staring at her. Recognizing her. It found her. Somehow, after all these years...however long it had been. The monster's cry roared through the jungle, shaking the leaves around her. Terror ripped through her and she pushed herself faster, further, desperate to get away. It couldn't end like this..._

_She screamed as a sudden burst of hot pain tore through her side..._

Kate's eyes snapped open and she gasped, the feel from her dream still pumping through her. The reality of it: the fear, the pain. It was so familiar...she remembered it clearly, as though it was part of her life and not just a dream.

She tossed and turned, her head spinning as it swung from side to side before her eyes finally found Jack. He was watching her. But he didn't look concerned he looked...hurt. They watched each other; she half expected him to have an answer for her. When he opened him mouth to speak his words were reluctant, his throat dry from building up the nerve to interrogate her:

"I need you to tell me the truth, Kate."

A bloody washcloth was sitting beside him on a tray of rubbing alcohol and bandages. He was watching her intently, already trying to catch her lie.

"Where have you been for the past three years?"

He already knew the answer. He knew she was lying before she opened her mouth but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to open this door. It was confusing enough. It was surreal enough, and she was sure there was no way for her to get back. She just wanted to try to accept it, and they could finally live together in peace, safely. It was over here, in this world.

But the monster. It came for her. It had been looking for her.

She didn't want to tell him. It wasn't fair...why couldn't something go right? Every step forward was jerked backward. It was almost like they weren't meant to be together. But she didn't feel that way. She didn't want to hurt him, she didn't want to leave him. It scared her but she could admit to it.

Her reaction seemed to be enough for him. He got up, walking away from her, running a hand over his head and breathing out disbelief.

"I can't believe these," he muttered, "I don't believe this."

"I'm sorry."

Her voice was only a whisper but he heard her. Turning, their eyes. He was afraid. Desmond was right, Jack wasn't ready to accept something this absurbed, something so against what he believed. It terrified him to know that this was possible. He'd settled in, accepting have to live on the island, but he had never adapted to it.

"What happened?" He asked her softly; she was grateful he didn't jump to accusations. "After I left, what happened to you and Daniel?"

She shook her head. The memory was so unreal. The events replayed so quickly in her head that she wasn't sure they were real. It was too much to comprehend. Daniel was thrilled with the concept of suddenly appearing somewhere else in time but it terrified her. There were too many questions, too many roadblocks in the theory of it all and surely, she thought, they had taken on something their century wasn't ready for.

Then again, ever since crashing on the island her life felt like a dream. It was so different, like a fantasy. A horrific fantasy. And Jack...finding someone like him in it was too good to be true.

"That wasn't your father, Jack."

"I know." He shook his head. "I know, it was a ghost."

"No," she was afraid to meet his eyes but the connection happened. Everything he believed for the past three years was about to change. "It was that thing, the monster. It came after us, and Daniel led us to this hidden compartment-"

"Wait, what?"

Shaking his head Jack held up a hand; he was still refusing to believe what he knew was true. But she understood. It was too much to take in and worse, they had to understand in order to know what was going on.

"It was some kind of...I don't know...time machine."

"Kate-"

"I don't like it either. But we just suddenly appeared on the shore. Daniel was...thrilled. Eventually we started fighting and I left. That's when I found you."

He was still shaking his head, running a hand frantically through his hair. He began to pace the room.

"No, it's not possible."

"Jack-"

"No!"

"Then what happened?" Her eyes filled with tears. Her throat gave out, her words falling to a pitiful collapse.

His eyes were so full of terror...he wasn't even afraid for her. She wasn't insulted by it, but she was shaken by the idea of traveling through time, of accomplishing the impossible. She wasn't supposed to be here. That was what it meant.

There was something else, too.

"And what does that have to do with what's happening to me?"

Jack was too stunned to answer. He wanted to leave, she could see that. There was no where to run to.

"Jack," she tried.

"Desmond!" He called, not looking away from her. "Desmond!"

"Yeah?"

Desmond appeared, looking between the two. An understanding lit up in his eyes. He watched Jack carefully, cautious about saying "I told you so". Kate still didn't understand...why was this vital to what was wrong with her? It scared her. It felt like it was out of her hands, out of Jack's hands. That was what was wrong with him. This situation, this explanation, was out of his hands.

Desmond turned to her, his eyes suddenly wide.

"When you were out, did you experience any weird dreams?" Her heart pounded, horrified at his question. "Ones that seemed too real to just be dreams?"

Again she couldn't answer, but she knew the truth had escaped through her eyes. Shoulders sinking, Desmond turned to Jack.

"What was it that you did to fix this?" Jack asked.

"Fix what-"

"A constant," Desmond replied, ignoring her, "but this is different. I mean, it sounds like she just time traveled. Not mentally. Physically. I don't know if a constant will work."

"Something has to."

"Maybe it's just the wound-"

"No," Jack said, "this was happening before the wound."

Now that Desmond was proven right he didn't seemed too fond of it. But the way Jack was staring at her...she felt like she had been put under a microscope.

"What's wrong?" She asked quietly.

She looked to Jack who looked at Desmond. Desmond shrugged.

"I'm sorry, I don't know. This is different..."

"A minute ago you were in here yelling about how her body was going crazy because she traveled through time!" Jack exclaimed.

"I know!" Desmond replied, regretful. "It's just...different, now that I think about it."

"Maybe it just hasn't gotten worse yet," Jack muttered under his breath,

He turned, staring toward the entrance of the cave. A long silence past. She and Desmond watched him, waiting for him to come to a conclusion. Her head swirled with pain and confusion...her muscles ached. Sweat dripped from her skin.

"We need Daniel," Jack announced.

"What?"

Their voices echoed as Jack turned around, his eyes swirling with ideas.

"He was there, with her, he can help us."

"But that's not a constant!" Desmond pointed out."It won't help-"

"Then at least he would know what was going on!"

Jack began pacing the room again, his feet dashing from one side to another before landing in front of her. He knelt down beside her. Soft determination flooded his eyes, like he was talking to a fragile child. He spoke carefully:

"Do you know where Daniel is? Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

A funny feeling shook her; it was like mist was feeling her head. Her throat stung and her voice was hoarse.

"The statue."

She could only manage a whisper. Her eyes shot to Desmond as Jack turned to him. She wanted to stay conscious; she had to know what was going on. If this really was a matter of her life or death, she didn't want to be fading away while they ran around making the decisions.

"Do you remember where that was?" Jack asked him.

When had they gone there?

To her, that had only been a few hours ago.

To him, it had been a few years.

He must have been holding onto those moments, those few last moments they had together, all this time. Most of that time, she ignored him. And she had never gotten to explain...

"Yeah," Desmond replied, "I-

--

The silence was unnerving when she awoke. She swore she felt the hum of an air conditioner, but it was only the breeze of a swift wind swarming in from outside the cave. Eyes fluttering open she spotted Jack standing near the outskirts, staring at the wall.

"What happened?"

He jumped at her weak voice and rushed over, kneeling beside her so that their eyes met. She felt his hand rest in hers; his palm was sweaty, and she knew his concerned eyes were holding back fear.

"You passed out again," Jack explained, "how do you feel?"

Kate looked away. She almost forgot. The last time she was awake she confessed everything...he couldn't just be concerned about her. He was angry with her. She realized that's what she saw when she woke up: he was still trying to come to terms with what she told him.

"Okay."

Immediately silence swarmed their conversation. She had to look away and she chose to stare at the wall instead of facing how she hurt him. For once, she just wanted to choose what she wanted to do. She wanted to be able to stay here, in this world. Why should she want to tell Jack about time traveling? It would only emphasis that she wasn't supposed to be here that, in reality, something horrible probably happened to her. Desmond was right. Whatever happened to her now was because she wasn't supposed to be here. She was paying the price, as always, for trying to live her own life.

He was waiting for her to explain. She realized that quickly; he accepted her reply so easily. He was wanting to know more and he had the right to know...she guessed. She could never hide the truth from him. It was becoming a weakness. It was slowly ripping her apart from her former self. Jack was right, living on this island was surreal, like living in a dream world, where you weren't yourself at all.

"I'm sorry," she turned to him, "I'm sorry, I should have told you. I just...don't want to go back."

"Who said you were going back?"

"I don't know..."

Tears threatened to fall and she closed her eyes. Her hand slipped away from his and rested on her forehead. Her head spun in dizzying spells, even as she stared at darkness.

"I just...one minute I'm about to be killed and the next I'm with you. And I didn't want to hurt you...you don't believe any of this, do you?"

"Your apology or the time traveling part?"

A smile broke out onto both of their faces; small laughs filled the room but only for a moment.

"This goes against everything you believe in, doesn't it?" Kate asked.

She brought herself to look at him and searched his eyes curiously.

"You have no idea."

He sighed, as though what they knew was a great burden. But it was too much to comprehend. To the rest of the world, time travel was a myth. Here it was reality...and it was frightening. They didn't have any answers. Daniel probably wouldn't have any answers.

"What does Desmond think is wrong with me?"

He looked down and paused, debating rather or not to answer. His eyes shifted to the cave's mouth as though he were hoping Desmond would save him in time. But no one came.

"On the way back from the freighter Desmond experienced something. He kind of blacked out, but not...entirely. He woke up and he was in the military in 1996."

"Wait, what?"

"I know. He said it was just like it was in 1996. He was actually there. And when he woke up from this...experience...he had no memory of ever being on the island. This same thing happened again and again, always going back to the same time period. He started failing, physically. Apparently it happened to someone on the freighter too."

"What happened to him?"

His head fell; she could practically hear his chin snap against his neck, his eyes closing. He stood, his feet angrily leading him back to his spot near the wall.

"Jack? What happened?"

He turned to her, his eyes snapping at her. Angry. Tired. Helpless.

"He died."

Her heart leapt and then began beating furiously. She felt worse, like her body slipped away form her. Now she knew why he had been ignoring Desmond, why he insisted that this couldn't be true. He didn't want her to die. And he knew it would happen. There was no stopping it...

"But I can't I...I didn't lose my memory. And this is different. The first time I only dreamed I...it wasn't real. And this time there was nothing. Nothing! I'm just blacking out. That's all it's...it's from the wound."

She closed her eyes. She was crying again.

"I'm sorry, Kate."

His voice was so soft, so broken. So far away...he was afraid of her. She was afraid of having to face this situation.

"Jack!"

Her eyes snapped open, still misty with tears. Her and Daniel's eyes connected the moment he entered the cave. Rushing in behind Desmond he watched her, acknowledging the tension that was still between them.

"Tell me everything you experience when you black out," Daniel said, "everything. Every sound, every feeling. Every dream. Are you in pain?"

"Yeah, I was attacked-"

"No, not from that."

She didn't understand, but she couldn't handle the suspense.

"Yeah, there's this stinging feeling in my face," Kate admitted.

"Her nose was bleeding the first time."

Kate looked up at Jack. He never told her that. But he looked away, and she knew it would waste time to get him to explain.

"It happens quickly. I don't fade out it just happens. One moment I'm fine the next I'm waking up from passing out."

"And do you have any dreams? Any memories?"

"I..." she looked to Jack, secretly wishing he could help her. But she knew he couldn't. "The second time I dreamed I was being chased by the monster. It attacked me."

"Interesting..."

Suddenly Daniel quickly approached her; her heart leapt in surprise and began beating, anticipating that something bad would happen. But he only stood there, studying her, frowning. Looking as clueless as the rest of them.

"But I'm fine now," Kate whispered.

"Now's not forever," Daniel said. He turned to Jack and Desmond. "It's not the same situation but it's close enough. Of anything, it may be worse." She saw Jack flinch, disapproving Daniel's choice of words. "It's kind of like a parallel universe, where there's another you living an alternate life. But this is the future. The direct future. And somewhere in this future there's another Kate. That's what's happening to her. I'm guessing the monster figured out that she's not supposed to be here."

"So it's...fixing things?" Jack said.

"Yes. And it's going to keep coming back until time is set in stone. And the black outs, that's because there's not enough room in this world for two Kate's, for lack of a better explanation. There can't be two of you. It's just not right, it can't work."

"How can we make it stop?" Kate demanded.

Jack was afraid. Desmond was afraid. Daniel didn't look too sure enough but then again she had barely seen one trace of confidence since meeting him.

"We have to take you back," he said, and then added: "we have to go back."

Kate's eyes closed. Of course. Nothing could go right, nothing...tears began to emerge. She felt sorry for herself. She would go back and to what? Three years of suffering on the island? Would she and Jack ever be able to live as easily as he and Desmond were now?

--

Light burst through her eyes and she gasped, breathing in a raspy panic. The last thing she remembered she was in the caves, taking in what Daniel said. Now the ground was rushing beneath her. Footsteps pounded across the forest floor. Her face felt wet...

She was hovering above the ground, and she realized someone had to be holding her. She looked down. Jack's arms were wrapped around her, holding her carefully as they fled into the jungle.

"How much further?" He asked.

"I...it's just up ahead."

"He doesn't know!" Desmond complained quietly. He was right next to Jack. "He can't find it!"

"Just give him time."

"We don't have time!"

"She's awake, you know."

Daniel's voice stopped them. Her eyes slipped through the ground; it was too awkward. The silence went on, and she realized they weren't going to let her know what was going on. Jack kept running; she trembled with each footstep. She was cold. Shaking.

"Wait!"

They stopped. Kate's stomach lurched as Jack suddenly slowed. She looked around for an explanation but there was only jungle around her. He began stepping forward slowly, heading for a wall of jungle ahead of them. A thin trail was barely visible, cutting through the trees.

"This is it," Jack whispered.

Her vision was blocked off as his hand covered her face; he was protecting her. The silence rummaged around them, anticipating them as they stepped through the path. She watched as the faded image of the palm of Jack's hand hovered above her eyes and she wondered how close they were...

Suddenly she could see again.

The cabin was standing right in front of them. Jack's breathing became rapid; he was thinking of his father.

"Let's do this," Daniel announced.

Kate felt herself being lowered to the ground and her feet caught her balance; Jack held onto her arms, keeping her close. Their eyes met. She'd seen him afraid many times, more times than he probably realized. But he looked sick with fear. His fingers were sweaty against her skin.

"We need to go," Daniel said. She and Jack continued to watch one another, not daring to look away. He didn't want to lose her, he didn't want to risk a single chance of losing her forever. Again. "Look, none of this will matter. When we get back we can find you. Everything will be okay."

Jack didn't believe. And she was starting to not to. Her eyes filled with tears as she came to the realization: something happened to Jack, after he left the cabin. What if she couldn't stop it? What if this really was the last time they ever saw each other?

Her head spun, demanding attention.

"Jack."

Their gaze snatched apart, landing on the image of his father. He was standing before them, in front of the path they just left. Jack didn't say anything. He just stood there, as though his silence would send the ghost the- whoever he was- away.

"I know you tried but I'm sorry," Jack's father shook his head, "it just can't be."

She was close enough to Jack to feel him breathing in a panic; she knew he wanted to say something but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was crazy. But at the same time...it was his dad.

"You can't mess with what's supposed to be."

His father believed in fate. Jack tensed at the saying and she understood: it was why Jack was so against fate. Faith. Anything that had to do with believing what wasn't there, what he couldn't see. Putting his life in the hands of an idea.

"I'm sorry, Jack."

Suddenly his father was gone and the smoke monster was in his place. As it leapt towards them Jack pulled her away. She looked at him. He was crying as they fled into the house, slamming the door behind him.

"Jack-"

"You have to go-"

"No." She looked up at him. Tears stained his face; he struggled to breathe easily. "What happened to you after you left the cabin?"

"I-"

"There's no time!"

They jumped at Desmond's voice and looked at the door. The handle was shaking.

"We have to go," Daniel said, stepping beside them. He looked between the two. She couldn't take her eyes off of Jack. She didn't want to risk any chance of losing him. "I promise you, it will be okay."

"Jack, what happened to you? Where were you?"

"I-"

The door handle jerked again.

"Kate!" Daniel exclaimed.

"I'm a few miles north of the cabin! I'm with Ben and Richard! Desmond, he's coming back from the barracks. He'll be at a station called The Arrow, heading back this way." Tears streamed down his face; he still hadn't let her go.

"Kate!"

Daniel was pulling at her shoulder, eyes wide as he glanced between her and the shaking doorframe. Suddenly a lock clicked. Her heart pounded, out of control. She felt sick. She felt sick at the thought of leaving him, at the thought of the monster. And she felt sick for real too; her head...

"We've got to go!"

The door flew open and a swarm of smoke swam in, speeding towards them. Daniel grabbed her, pushing her away from Jack.

"Jack!" She screamed, her cries fading into the monster's howl.

Tears poured down her face in uncontrollable waves. She couldn't breathe. She didn't want to go but her feet led her anyway. Daniel's hand was wrapped tightly around her arm. She felt dizzy. The world spun. The monster howled.

Someone grabbed her free arm. She looked up, relief falling through her at the sight of Jack's face. Desperation pounded in his eyes.

"Kate," his breaths chased one another. His hand shook as he held onto her. He tightened her grip.

A cloud of darkness emerged behind him.

"Jack!"

"Kate, I love you!"

She was jerked away and fell on hard, cold ground. The trap door shut above them. Daniel's arms were wrapped around her. She could hear herself crying. Eyes shut tightly she blocked the world out, thinking only of his face, trying to capture his voice. He would never leave her...he would haunt her forever. It was the only chance of hope she ever had, her relationship with him. She was changing. And for the better, she realized too late. She could have changed. But instead she failed him, like everyone else.

She hoped Daniel was right. But even if everything changed, if nothing that just happened mattered, she would never be able to forget. She would always have to live knowing that she could hurt him, that their relationship was fatal. She would never be able to look at him without remembering his face just then, and she would know forever that an end was never far away.

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the reviews!! I'm sooo sorry for the wait!

Until next time...

October Sky


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